Archive of Our Own ^beta

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The party is a raucous one, loud music from a live band filling the ballroom, dancers on the floor and the tables full of people eating and speaking and laughing. Seth is alone in his table, doing his best to politely fend off the attentions of the guest of honor. Amber eyes are on him, lingering on his wrists and throat, enough to make Seth’s skin crawl.

Still, Seth is nothing if not the most consummate professional. He carries on, discussing the finer points of The Art of War while his companion doggedly tries to turn every sentence into an innuendo.

“I mean, he has a whole chapter on espionage, right? And as he said. Know your enemy, and you can win a war without even fighting a battle.” Seth smiles tightly, wanting very badly to kick this bastard in the balls.

“I suppose that means you don’t have any intention of building new bases, then?” Seth asks, and Athanasiou winks.

“I do have plans for making bases, if you know what I mean.” He grins and slips a keycard into its sleeve, tucks it beneath Seth’s palm. “You know where to find me, darling.” Seth smiles at him -truly it’s more of a grimace, but the damn fool seems more turned on than anything else as he walks away from the table.

From the corner of Seth’s eye, a shadow detaches itself from the bar. A woman in a velvet dress, her expression severe, wearing the face of Athanasiou’s wife. Athanasiou’s starts walking faster, his shoulders, meeting his ears, and Seth snorts just as dark eyes meet his. Seth’s gaze slips past Anubis’ as he toys idly with his glass, stifling the spike of anxiety in his gut. Reminding himself it would do him no good to bring attention to Anubis, that Anubis is an excellent forger and can hold his own in case of an emergency.

“Uncle!” A soft voice speaks. Seth tenses up when a young boy with big, blue eyes slips through the party-goers towards his corner.

“I thought I told you to stay out of sight!” Seth hisses. Objectively, he knows that he’s being unjustifiably, unprofessionally paranoid, that his anxiety will just bring more attention to them. But Horus is so vulnerable like this, and cold fear slices into Seth’s gut at the gaze of every party-goer that lands them. He moves as quickly as possible without drawing attention to the two of them, his hand closing over Horus’ shoulder, slipping past the door into the unoccupied room beside the main ballroom.

“You were taking so long with him, I got worried.” Horus says simply. He’s tiny,barely coming up to Seth’s chest, andSeth breathes out. Reminding himself that Horus isn’t a child, no matter what he looks like here, that he’s even better an extractor than Seth himself used to be, there’s a reason why he allowed him to join him on this job -

Focus, Seth. He’s fine. Seth pulls himself together, his guts twisting in guilt. “It took the fucking pervert forever to get around to the bases. Then he gave me that. Anubis is distracting him, so now’s your chance.” Horus’ eyes narrow and his lips draw down into a frown. Seth sighs, has to resist the damnable urge to pinch his cheek.

“Did the projections give you trouble?” Horus shakes his head. But when Horus reaches for the key, Seth almost involuntarily pulls away. He groans when Horus gives him that firm, implacable look on his face that Seth knows regularly drives Isis mad.

“Uncle, you know it has to be me.” Horus says. He tugs the keycard out of Seth’s unwilling grip, and all Seth can think of is how small his hand is.

“Horus,” Seth says, his throat tight. “If you run into trouble… Don’t jump until you hear the music.” it’s not a reminder Horus needs, but Horus nods anyway.

“I know, Uncle. I’ll take care.” He slips away, as quick as the dark-furred cat that used to lounge in their garden, and Seth returns to his corner table. A waiter passes by him, staring a little too hard at his face, and Seth has to stop himself from snarling at him, from jumping out and seeking out either of the two boys.

After a small eternity, Horus returns. He immediately presses a slim brown envelope into his hand.

“I’ve found the plans. They were in General Athanasiou’s safe.” Horus whispers. “Anubis was giving him hell in the corridor, but I’ve given him the signal to set off the kick.” Seth cups a protective hand over the back of his head when a woman in a ballgown passes too close to their table, scowling at Horus.

“Good. So that means you found what we’re looking for?” The envelope is already open; Horus must have already read it. Seth pulls out the sheaf of papers, reads them. Blueprints for a new base, lists of men and artillery, and the location -

And then, he smells it. Seth’s lungs go tight. He feels Horus’ small hand close over his wrist.

“Uncle…” Horus’ hand slips into his. “It’s okay.” Seth pushes down the tightness in his throat as he finishes reading, then tugs Horus along with him just as the disembodied strains of Non, je ne regrette rien start to play all around them.

Seth rushes Horus out of the ballroom. The smell of flowers growing stronger and stronger as the projections point towards them and start to call out, start chasing after them.

“Uncle-!” Horus shouts. The world tilts violently, and Seth scoops Horus up in his arms just as the people around them scream and the world bursts into flames-

Music swells around him. Seth opens his eyes. Athanasiou is still beside him, still sleeping like the dead, but Horus is no longer beside him, and with a chill Seth looks up. His eyes meet Isis’ furious blue ones. She’s tied up and gagged, struggling against her bonds. Anubis is also tied up, watching everything with his usual frozen-over calm. But Horus - .

The smell of flowers is heavy around them. With a heart like lead, Seth looks up to see the man in a clean-cut dark green suit, standing behind Horus and gripping the back of his neck, holding a gun aimed at his head.

“I had expected you would do a better job keeping me out.” The shade wearing Osiris’ face speaks to Seth, and that disappointment burns Seth and makes his skin crawl just as much as it still stings, almost seven years on. “Then again, your mental defenses were never particularly strong, were they?”

“They were strong enough to put you in the ground in the real world,” Seth growls, his hand closing on the gun he materializes beside him. Osiris raises his eyebrows and nudges the tip of his pointedly against the back of Horus’ skull.

“Don’t you dare-” Seth hisses. And then Horus speaks.

“Uncle Seth, it’s okay.” Horus whispers. He’d wiggled out of the handkerchief gagging him, and his nose is dripping blood. Seth’s heart breaks to see him hurt. “You’re still dreaming. He can’t hurt you anymore.” A crack, and Horus lets out a cry as he’s sent sprawling to the floor.

Isis lets out a strangled scream, throwing herself towards Osiris but he pushes her away, unperturbed as she lands heavily on her side. Anubis crouches down to check on her, his dark gaze tracking Osiris’ movements. Tears are rimming Horus’ lashes, but he bites down hard on his lip as he struggles up. His nose is streaming blood, and more blood blooms from a cut on his forehead where he’d bashed it on the floor.  Osiris gets ready to strike at Horus yet again, and Seth’s had enough. 

“Fuck – fuck – just stop-” Seth is babbling, his voice raw with terror. “I’ll do anything you want, please, just don’t hurt him-”

A memory flashes in him. Anubis, lying still and quiet and horribly blank-faced in his hospital bed. Horus, a tiny, sobbing shape curled up in the sand. Seth wants to be sick when he sees the familiar pleasure glinting in Osiris’ eye.

“You know all too well what I want, Seth.” Osiris pushes Horus aside, strokes the tip of his gun down Seth’s lip. “All you have to do is let me set you free.”

Seth doesn’t get to answer. An explosion rips through the first floor of the building they’re in – courtesy of Isis, managing to set off the charges with Osiris being distracted and for one excruciating moment Seth can feel all his organs liquefying as he falls, falls, falls.

His eyes snap open. Warm hands cradle his face. Soft blue eyes stare into his, a furrow of concern between strong, sloping brows. Horus’ mouth grim and set, tension all along his jawline that had all traces of puppyfat already long melted away.

“Uncle, you’re awake.” Seth sucks in one shaky breath, and then another. His lungs are clear. Beside them, Athanasiou is still out cold. Isis is making a call, her face pale and her lips in a taut line as Anubis silently packs away the PASIV, tucks it away into Isis’duffel.

Seth gulps in a deep breath, then speaks.

“You have the information we came for. I’m going.” He pushes Horus’ warm hands aside, grabs for his luggage.

“To where?” Horus asks. Seth does not answer. He hears Isis call out sharply to her son, and he hurries past. He doesn’t want to hear whatever she has to say, everything between them has already been said in screams and betrayal and blame.

His eyes meet Anubis’. He hesitates for a moment, but Anubis looks away, and Seth forces himself to hurry past, a lump in his throat.

He’s almost at the exit of the already-slowing train when it hits him again – the reek of flowers. Seth sags against the side of the train, his knees buckling. The stench of flowers only growing stronger, and Seth shivers in dread when he sees the thorny vines start creeping along the edges of his vision, delicate red buds bursting opening and poisoning the air.

He grabs desperately for his totem, his hand shaking as he flips the hourglass over so the sand starts to drain. A voice calls out to Seth from a great distance, strong arms catching him, clad in light blue-grey instead of dark green. Horus holds Seth up, His stupidly huge and bulky adult body so at odds with the child’s slight frame he still wore in dreams, the top of Seth’s head barely brushing against his lower chin as Horus tucks his face against his shoulder. Seth’s ragged breaths syncing in time with Horus’ even ones.

Seth spares a tired lament that his nephew had gone so damnably tall that he can keep up with him when all Seth wants to do is get away. And then he smells another nauseating wave of floral reek, and he shivers in Horus’ arms.

“Uncle, it’s okay.” Horus murmurs against his ear. “You’re awake. This is real.” Seconds pass. Seth’s airways clear. The scent of flowers fade. They’d never been there in the first place.

After a small eternity, Seth lifts his head, avoiding Horus’ gaze. “And you? Are you okay?” He represses a shiver of horror at the memory of Osiris beating Horus. 

“Yeah. I am.” Seth pushes aside Horus’ short bangs, looking for a cut that can’t exist in the real world, then freezes when Horus’ fingers close around his wrist, leaning his face into his  palm. 

They breathe together. Seconds pass, and the clock continues to tick.  Seth shivers, and Horus gives him a look that has him tugging his hand free, his throat dry, self-disgust rising in his gorge. 

“You should be with your mother.” Seth says brusquely. He squirms away, and Horus lets him go. Seth ignores how the warmth of his body still lingers against his own.

“She’s making sure Athanasiou doesn’t wake up too soon. Anubis is with her. He told me he’s leaving for India tonight, there’s a job at Mumbai he needs to take care of.” That has Seth falling still. Horus continues, and Seth hates how he just knows Horus can probably sense the tearing feeling in his chest. “Sekhmet should already be waiting for us outside.” True enough, when Seth glances at the approaching train platform, he sees a women in deep red, dripping with gold jewelry. She smiles when she sees him, lifting her manicured hand in a lazy wave.

“Of course Ra’s going to have her monitor her investment. Probably wanted to surprise us in case we failed and decided to skip out on the job.” Seth wonders if she’d seen that whole pathetic display, and feels ill at the very thought. He feels Horus’ hand close gently over his shoulder, shrugs it off before he can give him a reassuring squeeze.

“Uncle, when we get to somewhere we can be alone – we have to talk.” Seth stiffens.

“There’s nothing to fucking talk about!” he snaps. He adjusts the straps of his bag, and the train falls still. Seth hurriedly pulls away from Horus, eager to get away. Horus calls out for him, but Seth does not turn to look at him as the doors open, and he steps off the train.

As the warm wind hits his face, he smells the faint stench of flowers, underlining the petrol. He lights a cigarette to get the reek out of his nose, ignores Horus as he falls in step behind him, always behind him, just like he used to follow him a lifetime ago along a pebbled beach. 

-----

Horus first meets his uncle when he’s nine years old.

They’d just moved to Heliopolis, his parents’ old hometown. Something about how his parents were working on a new project that Uncle Seth and Aunt Nepthys were also working on. Uncle Seth was Mom’s younger brother and Aunt Nepthys was her best friend growing up, along with Dad.

Mostly, Horus knows that both his Mom and Dad are happy to be back home. They would be living in the house they grew up in, the big mansion that his grandparents had owned and where Uncle Seth’s family were still living in, but the thing his parents had been looking forwards to the most was to see Uncle Seth and Aunt Nepthys again.

“You’ll have a playmate.” Mom had told Horus when they first broke the news to him. Dad had corrected her.

“Anubis is three years older. Perhaps he’ll be interested in different things, but from everything Seth’s told me of the boy he’ll be more than happy to let Horus tag along.” Horus had wrinkled his nose. Inside, he wasn’t really sure what it would be like to have a lot of other people. He’s used to being alone in the house, or playing quietly beside Mom while she was working. But he had spoken to his uncle on the phone, and he’d liked him. He always asked about his day, and listened, really listened whenever he talked about it. Sometimes he talked a little too long, and Dad would gently tell him they can talk next time, overseas calls are expensive, and take the phone away.

The flight to Helipolis is long, and tiring. Horus falls asleep in the middle of the car ride to their new old house, right in the outskirts of the city. He has a dim memory of being carried, of warm arms and bright red hair fanning over his face, so comfortable that he doesn’t stir, as the world softens and blurs and finally goes out all around him.

He dreams that he’s walking. He’s walking and walking in a quiet desert, sand dunes all around him and the sky above a bright wash of stars. The brightest of them all is a big red star, directly hanging above him like a glittering red jewel.

For some reason, Horus thinks it’s smiling at him. He walks and walks, and the sand dunes around him turn to big castles carved with animal-headed gods like in the books Dad gave him, to temples and fortresses rising to the sky in the stories Mom tells. The buildings twist, change into skyscrapers of steel and gleaming glass like the sort he’s seen Mom and Dad design, but the sand. Through it all, the red star seems to get closer and closer. Bigger and bigger. And when it seems big enough to swallow him up, big enough to swallow the whole world, Horus wakes.

He opens his eyes in a strange room, in an equally strange but comfortable bed. He can’t remember where he is for a solid moment, and he lies there blinking. And then yesterday’s events trickle in, and he stretches, rubs the rest of the sleep out of his eyes and swings his feet over the edge of the bed.

His slippers are by the foot of his bed. So is his luggage. It’s dark outside, Horus puts his slippers on, then tiptoes to the windows, peering through the glass windows and seeing a faded scattering of stars. He goes back to bed, but after tossing and turning, his eyes refuse to close.

So he gets up, puts on his slippers and pads out of his room to try to get a drink of water. The house is old, and dark, and creaks. Horus remembers his dream, that feeling of walking and walking in the dark, and when he sees the light at the end of the corridor, he blinks hard, pinches himself. Reminding himself he’s already awake.

The little slice of light is spilling in from a half-open door. Horus walks as quietly as possible, curious who would be up this late. Then he sees bright red hair, spilled out over the arm of a divan. A beautiful face, relaxed and soft in sleep, and Horus feels a tickle in his chest, wondering if this is what the prince in Sleeping Beauty felt like.

There’s that machine in a metal case he had always seen in Mom and Dad’s office but had been expressly forbidden from touching, a plastic tube leading from it up to the sleeping man’s wrist, like the one Horus got when he got really sick with dengue fever two years ago. Horus takes a step forwards, pushing open the door, wanting a closer look, and then a voice nearly startles him out of his skin.

Dad is sitting in a chair across the sleeping man, half-hidden by the door so Horus hadn’t seen him.

“Horus, what are you doing here?” Dad’s voice is the low calm it got when Horus is in trouble, big trouble, his eyes narrowed just slightly the way it does when he’s waiting for an explanation, and Horus flinches.

“I wanted a glass of water,” he says. And then the red-haired man stirs, and Dad’s attention snaps back to him. So does Horus’ and Horus watches him grope for the pocket of his jeans, taking out a small hourglass. He flips it over, and after the roughly thirty seconds it takes for the sand to drain, he nods in satisfaction and places it back into his pocket.

“How was the sedative?” The red-haired man, who could only be Horus’ Uncle Seth, stretches and massages his back.

“Not nearly effective enough. I could still sense what was going on around me, outside the dream.” His red-brown eyes land on Horus, and their corners crinkle as he smiles. “Jet lag got to you too, huh? You must be the famous Horus, your Mom talks about all the time. Welcome home.” Horus hadn’t even noticed he’d walked forwards, until Uncle Seth reaches out to give his cheek a squeeze.

“You look almost exactly like Anubis did at your age.” Uncle Seth says. Horus isn’t very happy about being compared to the cousin he’s never met, but Uncle Seth looks so pleased to see him that he feels his cheeks burning. A bright bubble of joy floats in Horus’ chest when Uncle Seth scoops him up. Dad had told him that he was too big to carry now, but Uncle Seth lifts him up like he’s nothing.

“I think that’s enough experimentation for a night, Nepthys is gonna let me have it if we burn through her supply of Somnacin before a week, it takes a whole bunch of red tape to get the stuff.” Uncle Seth bounces Horus in his arms, and Horus is too old to giggle and ask him to do it again, but Uncle Seth does anyway, making him laugh. “Let’s get this little man some water and maybe a snack, and then we’ll talk.”

“Yes. We do have time together now, anyway.” Dad’s smiling but the look in his eyes is the kind of stern it got when he’s going to give Horus a good scolding later, but Horus figures he doesn’t mind over-much. Not when Uncle Seth is still holding him, his bright hair soft under Horus’ hands.

---------

Ra is very, very pleased at how well the extraction went. She’s far less pleased at Anubis’ report, along with Sekhmet’s. Seth can feel his sister glaring daggers at his head when Ra drawls out her record of events, raising an eyebrow at him and Horus both. Beside her, Sekhmet chuckles like she’s watching an entertaining family drama.

Horus watches silently, as usual torn whether to offer silent support by his mother’s side, or to go over to his uncle as a steadying presence. There are dark shadows carved beneath Seth’s eyes, and his cheeks are gaunter than they had been when they had taken the job. He keeps glancing to the empty seat in the briefing room, the place where Anubis usually sits – longing for his son even though he’s the reason Ra is essentially interrogating him. Horus exhales, familiar jealousy burning him alive.

“Seth? Care to explain yourself? Ra sounds like a disappointed schoolteacher. Seth’s attention snaps back to her, and he glares.

“I have it under control.” Seth insists with a snarl. Isis catches the line of Horus’ vision, lets out a tired sigh. So does Ra, who lets out a very amused chuckle.

“Anubis doesn’t seem to think so.” Seth flinches, “Neither does Isis, I presume. I mean, be a little more sensitive, Seth. That’s a projection wearing her dead husband that she keeps having to see when she goes under with you.” Isis’ painted nails dig into her palms even as she fights to keep her expression hard and impassive.

Unfortunately, Ra isn’t done with them yet. She turns to Horus.“Also, Horus, darling,” she drawls. “Wouldn’t you say the form you take in the dreamspace is a bit… distracting for your poor uncle? It can’t be good for him mentally, seeing you getting beaten up by projections as a child.” Isis spares him from answering.

“It keeps Seth from forgetting he’s dreaming, and keeps him doing his job. Whatever works, works.” Isis says curtly. Ra drums her jewelled fingers on her desk.

“He’s having problems, though. Problems he has to fix if he wants to continue working for ENNEAD.” Horus can hear the honeyed threat in her words. “I mean, I know you wouldn’t really be working for us if you had a choice. I’d like exhaust all the means possible to retain one of my favorite employees.”

“They’ll be fixed,” Seth grits out. Ra smiles at him.

“I have full confidence you will. If not, well.” Ra’s eyes gleam. “Granted, you already have young Horus here as your protégé, but maybe it’s time to expand Anubis’ work experience, get him to lead a team by himself without your hovering over his shoulder like a terrified helicopter parent.”

“Don’t you dare drag him into this,” Seth whispers. Forging the identities of the mark’s family and friends within the dream realm was one thing, but the lead extractors who set up the dreams and stole the pertinent information were the ones in the immediate line of fire for reprisals, whether it be assassination or torture. Seth had been forcibly hired by the ENNEAD precisely because Ra’s lead extractor had been tortured to death by a competitor that had identified him as the thief that had cost them billions in corporate profits.

Ra smiles at him, but her eyes glitter in warning.

“You should keep better track of reality. You always forget you’re not in any position to refuse what I deem best for your team.” She leans back against her armchair, fiddling with a gold chain.

“Thank you, Seth. Payment will be sent to your accounts, along with a nifty little bonus, New Alexandria’s expansion plans will bring many different business opportunities for ENNEAD.” She smirks at them.

“Till the next extraction.” Seth turns without another word, walking out, his shoulders stiff and his jaw set. Isis follows him, no less tense. Ra watches them leave with laughing eyes.

Horus gives Ra a nod. But then he hears the click of heels, then hears Sekhmet’s voice.

“You know, there might come a time that Seth won’t be able to distinguish between dreams and reality.” Cold slakes down Horus’ spine. “If he becomes a liability, Ra’s going to put him down like a wounded dog.”

“That will never happen,” Horus says coldly. Sekhmet’s grin is a wide slash on her face.

“I suppose if anyone can save him, it’s you.” She taps her sharp red nails on the folder containing her and Anubis’ report. “Word of advice: you really should talk to your uncle. It all starts in the family, with you guys.” Horus bristles at her and her red smile, at how much she knows about his family that she had no right knowing. He can feel her almost cat-like gaze on him as he turns, walks away. His shoes tap on the creamy marble flooring of Ra’s building, and the high ceiling, the soaring sandstone walls remind him far too much of a half-remembered dream from years ago.

When Horus gets to the warehouse-slash-workshop, Seth and Isis are already arguing.

“Why the fucking hell did you have to bring Anubis along on this job?” Seth snaps. Horus glances around the room – luckily he hasn’t started throwing things around yet.

“Because I didn’t. Your son requested to be made part of this team because he wants to expand his skillset beyond forgery.” Isis retorts. Far from being placated, Seth just gets angrier.

“Did he request you, or did you specifically tell Ra so she’ll have a replacement for me trained up?” Seth flares. He gives bitter laugh as Isis glowers at him. “I can’t say I’m too hurt – you two have done nothing but get in my fucking way, anyway.” Isis slams a palm down over the table, and Seth falls silent.

“You think I want to be partners with you and keep having to see that thing in your dreams?” Isis shouts. “When you were the one who murdered my husband?” Seth’s eyes burn red, and Horus has had enough.

He steps in-between them, holding up his hands.“That’s enough,” Horus says firmly. “Mom. Uncle Seth. Nothing will be solved by your fighting.” Isis is glaring at Seth.

“The only reason Horus and I are here is because Ra called us to sort out your mess,” Isis hisses at Seth. “Once we’re done, and either you get your shit together or quit, or die - we’re through. I told you: I don’t have a brother anymore.”

Seth flinches like he’s been slapped. Isis’ expression is savage with triumph. She turns towards Horus, jerks her chin at him.

“Horus, come with me,” Isis snaps. Horus hesitates, then Seth lifts his head, tilts his chin up.

I’ll be back. Horus tries to say with his eyes even as he follows the click-clack of Isis’ heels as she heads for the car. They don’t speak, not until they get to the penthouse suite that was practically the only inhabited space in the condominium building Ra had included with their employee package. The first stable home they’d had for seven years that was given to them supposedly as a generous perk but Horus knows all too well is its own prison. Horus can never bring himself to call this too-still, unchanging place home. Neither can Isis, the decorations remained the generic ones that Ra had furnished it with. Home was the dim, faded memories of an old mansion bright with laughter and the sound of two families living, eating, talking, unknowing of the horror that awaited them. Home was the sere heat of the sun, the feeling of sand in his shoes, towering dunes all around him.

Home was strong arms, a curtain of red hair tickling his cheeks. A smile he hadn’t seen in so, so long.

Isis is making tea, her movements jerky with rage. Horus is quiet as he stays in her vicinity, and gradually he sees Isis’ shoulders loosen. He doesn’t try to embrace her. Perhaps he should have, perhaps he would have used to. But often, there’s an insurmountable gap between the faded safety and warmth of his barely-remembered childhood years, and the half-stranger who raised him on the run.

Horus will always be grateful to her. But he cannot lie to himself, and the woman in front of him is a stranger in so many ways still.

“Horus, your totem,” Isis says suddenly. “Do you know where you are?” Horus obediently takes the small hand mirror out of his pocket. His reflection stares out at him, solemn-eyed. A physical adult’s, if a young one. He tucks it back in his pocket, knowing it was for Isis to reassure herself much more than it was for him.

“We should never have accepted to work with your uncle again,” Isis says, her voice just the slightest bit unsteady as she pours herself a cup of bitter tea, and Horus another, the two of them taking seats by the kitchen counter.

“Ra would have forced us into it even if we had refused.” Isis snorts.

“Better to live on the run than getting stuck with the mental equivalent of a bomb waiting to explode.” She says, taking a sip. “You see it, don’t you? It’s getting worse.”

“I think something’s causing it.” Horus says. Isis scoffs. “Has he told you?” When Horus shakes his head, she sets her porcelain mug down with perhaps a little more force than necessary.

“It’s guilt, I expect,” Isis says tersely. “Killing your closest childhood friend and destroying the lives of your sister and nephew - not to mention your own wife and son - can do that to you.” Horus’ fingers clench. Seth, washing Horus’ hands. Sobbing and begging for forgiveness over and over. Horus, in his arms, and he’d never hated his child’s body more, unable to protect him, unable to help.

Uncle, what happened? But Seth had fled before he could tell him, before he could tell anyone, leaving Anubis and Nepthys, leaving his whole family behind. Leaving Horus alone.

“Mom…” the word still feels odd in his mouth, given how little he can remember of his childhood, and the people who raised him. Isis twitches, perhaps she can hear the strangeness of the word on his tongue. “What Osiris – what that projection did to sabotage the extraction… he didn’t want it to happen any more than we did.” Isis explodes.

“Osiris is your father, and you will address him as such!” She shouts. “I don’t care how many years you spent forgetting him in Limbo, that doesn’t amount to anything to all the years he spent raising and loving you!” The tea spills as she shoves the stool away from the counter.

“I’m sorry, Mom,” horus says. The response is automatic. Isis’ fists are clenched on the counter, shaking with rage. She breathes in, out. Horus stands up slowly, leaning close to her, his hand hovering, as always, not certain of what to do.

“You always choose Seth’s side, even when all this is his fault.” She says bitterly. “The fact of the matter is, it keeps happening. And either he spits out what’s wrong and fixes it, he’s going to become an increasing liability to Ra. And to us, by extension.” She picks up her knocked over mug, and Horus uses a dishrag to soak up the spilled tea.

“I’m not choosing his side.” I know what he’s been through. Isis doesn’t react, andHorus says nothing else.

“I know you’re going back to him.” Isis orders, exhaustion threaded through her voice. “Perhaps you should ask yourself why that projection he’s torturing himself with seems to be targeting you.” Horus avoids the accusation in Isis’ gaze. She sighs, puts the mug down in the sink. She leaves without glancing at Horus. The bedroom door closes behind her, and Horus is alone. Though Horus is exhausted, but as always his feet lead him out of the building, back to the warehouse. Back to Seth.

Seth is still in the warehouse. His eyes closed, asleep, and connected to the PASIV.

Horus presses his fingers down on his throat, sucks in a breath of relief at feeling his pulse beat. And then he’s sitting on the cot beside Seth, switching open the line, attaching a fresh needle to the plastic tube and inserting it into the vein of his wrist once it fills up with sedatives.

He opens his eyes, blinking in the bright sunlight. He’s back at the house he grew up in. Or rather, outside of it, the grass damp with dew beneath him, and he can hear the ghost of Anubis’ bright, bubbling laughter – laughter he can no longer recall hearing in real life - ringing out in the yard, though he can’t see him. He can hear Nepthys too, speaking to someone he can’t see, though now Horus knows to look for it, he can hear the strained, nervous quality of her voice.

“Horus,” Seth says. “You’re not supposed to be here.” Seth is seated by the old swing set in their yard. He looks unhappy to see him, though unsurprised. Behind him, their old house looms.

“I was worried,” Horus says. He sits on the swing beside Seth – taking care not to fall over, there was a time that this swing was too big for him, once. Seth sighs, but Horus’ chest warms when he doesn’t tug his hand away when Horus reaches for his hand. As Horus scans the area, he sees projections – faces of neighbors that he can dimly recall. They pay him no mind, but Horus can see Seth isn’t relaxing.

Before he can move – to slip off the swing and go over to Seth, to bury himself in his arms the way he used to, the way he no longer can as an adult – Seth gives his hand a squeeze.

“Let’s go,” Seth sighs. “Last thing I need is for him to come out because you’re here.” Horus nods, clinging to Seth’s hand, and then they’re no longer in their old house, but at the edge of a sandstone cliff above a raging river. Waves crash below, and Horus inhales deeply. Seth turns him around, hiding his face in his chest, and the two of them are falling.

When Horus opens his eyes, Seth’s already awake, sitting up in his cot and His hourglass is in his hand, and it shakes lightly as he tips it and watches the sand drain.

The very tension melts out of Horus’ body when Seth looks up and sees him, even if the ever-present anxious worry remains. Seth stows the hourglass away into his pocket, reaches for Horus as Horus drops to his knees beside Seth.

“Uncle,” Horus takes Seth’s shaking hands, remembering the whistling of wind against the dunes, the crash of waves on a beach. Seth sighs, giving Horus’ hands a squeeze.

“Your eyes are bloodshot.” Horus presses his forehead against Seth’s. Just like he used to when reality was too much, too heavy, and all he could feel was the longing for a silent, sunlit world.

“Go home, Horus,” Seth says, pulling back and drawing his hands away. “Knowing Ra, she’s going to want a follow-up on Athanasiou’s plans. That can be as soon as a few days.” But Horus knows all Seth’s tricks. He catches his hand by the wrist.

“If I go, will you go under again?” Seth is quiet. Horus sighs.

“Come on. We’ll rest.” Horus pulls Seth up, and after a second of resistance, Seth follows him.

Seth’s hotel is just a short walk away from Ra’s building – somehow, he’d found the one piece of property that Ra didn’t own, and obtained the assurance of privacy by the sheer accident that the owner didn’t want to be under Ra’s thumb any more than they did. Horus looks around him when they enter, doesn’t fail to note that Seth’s belongings are still in his luggage, very few left unpacked. Like he’s ready to leave, at any moment.

Seth gives Horus a tiredly questioning glance, and Horus realizes he’s squeezing his shoulders a little too hard. They remove their shoes and socks, and as Horus slips on the hotel’s slippers he’s vividly reminded of the first night he’d met Seth. Seth hesitates when Horus leads them directly to bed. Hanging back until Horus sits on one side, tugging him towards the other like an impatient child.

They lie beside each other, fully-dressed. Seth’s gaze burning into Horus’. Horus wants to press his thumb against his soft lips. To bear down on him, to take him, keep him, the center of his world, his memories -

But he can’t. Any more than Seth can give voice to the words that Horus knows he’s keeping inside of him. Seth sighs. They sag together, boneless from exhaustion, and Horus nuzzles his face against the crook of Seth’s shoulder. Seth tugs Horus’ head down, so that it’s pillowed over his chest. A few scratches of his nails against his scalp, and Horus’ eyes are closing.

They fall asleep, deep and dreamless. When Horus wakes up, it’s to Seth struggling, desperately groping for the hourglass in the pocket of his discarded suit trousers. Horus knows better than to reach for him, as he inverts the hourglass with unsteady hands.

The last grain of sand runs out, and Seth’s shoulders sag. Horus reaches for him, and he doesn’t flinch back. His trembling hands touching Horus all over like he’s reassuring himself that he’s here, that he’s real.

“You’re awake.” Horus murmurs. “It’s all right. We’re awake.” Seth leans against him, and it’s Horus’ turn to cradle him in his arms.

--------

Seth, truth be told, had mixed feelings about his older sister and her husband coming back to live in Heliopolis. It had been a long time coming, admittedly – Isis had loved it in New Alexandria, but Osiris had had trouble finding funding for his own avante-garde projects.

So when a donor had offered to fund their research into dreamsharing, Seth is unsurprised to hear that they’re moving back with their son. He can’t help but notice that Osiris seemed on the whole, happier about it – at least through the phone. Isis seems tired, but Seth supposes it’s the difficulty of organizing a move and a long-haul flight on top of having a young son. Even though Horus seems to be a sweet, well-behaved kid, Seth knows too-well the challenges of childcare.

Still, they manage. And Seth is waiting for them along with Nepthys, chuckling when he’s passed a conked-out little boy that could only be Horus, to carry into his room.

When everyone’s settled in, the real work begins.

“Dreams.” Osiris had told him, his eyes gleaming with the fervent excitement he usually only got when discussing a new project with either Isis or Seth. “What you dream about, is what you are. What if you can control that and let others partake? Wouldn’t that make you a god?” Seth had called him a crock of shit, but the idea had persisted. And before he knew it, Isis and Osiris had made an impossibility into a reality.

He’d gaped at his surroundings. At the desert flowing around him in an endless mobius strip of shifting sea and wind, the desert singing all around him and the sun a molten white-gold ball so close that Seth can touch it. And he does, plucking it from the sky and holding it between his palms. The water around him swirls, soaking him, and he frowns as the waves buffet him. Then they fall still, leaving his once-soaked legs dry except for a fine crust of golden-white sand.

But it wasn’t enough. The sedation, the dream wasn’t enough to block out the real world. It wasn’t enough for Seth to not notice the tiny boy staring at him from an open doorway. Big blue eyes, a sweet face that was so like Anubis’. Seth had smiled upon seeing him.

And then he’d woken up. The dream melted away, but the boy remained.

Just as he does now. Seth wakes up from dark and dreamless sleep to the reek of flowers. He gasps, hand desperately groping for the hourglass. Flipping it over, and he holds his breath until the last grain of sand flows through the bulb to join the pile below.

He’d dropped the hourglass onto the bedside table, shaking as he sucked in a breath. His cheeks too hot and his eyes stinging. Horus had tugged him close, and Seth was too weak, too dazed from sleep to do anything but let himself be held.

“Uncle,” Seven years after Seth had last seen Horus, he had returned from a particularly terrible job he’d barely pulled off to find that Ra had taken it upon herself to find another extractor for him to train.

“Your apprentice,” She had grinned with her red mouth. Your replacement, Seth had heard loud and clear. And Seth would have sneered at them both, maybe but then he had seen the boy’s eyes.

His face was older, the childish curve of his cheeks having grown into the maturity of an adult’s, and he had gotten so tall, far taller than even Seth. But his eyes remained the same: too-old yet vulnerably hopeful, tethering him to reality. Just like they do now, as Seth breathes, his face half-pressed against his pillow, Horus’ arms wrapped loosely around his waist. Seth’s heartbeat slowing down as Horus’ blue eyes watch him, their unblinking calm his reassurance that this is real and they are both awake.

He should tell Horus to move, Seth thinks almost idly. He’s too old to cling to Seth like this, like he was still a baby. Despite his thoughts, he doesn’t move away as Horus’ arms tighten around him, reaching forwards to card his fingers through Horus’ hair, his eyelids growing heavy again at all the warmth surrounding him.

And then Horus does move. Seth is suddenly all the way awake as Horus rolls them over so that he’s flat on his back. Horus’ arms braced on either side of him. His body searing against Seth’s, his eyes no less heated as his lips hover over Seth’s, far too close.

Seth tries to shove Horus away, but his fingers close over his wrists - gentle, enough for Seth to break his grip if he really struggles, but all resistance floods out of him as he feels Horus – as he feels Horus’ hips bearing down against his, at the hardness he feels too late between Horus’ legs, brushing against his own.

It’s heat. Heat, warmth, waking. Seth gasps at the pressure of Horus’ lips against the curve of his jaw. Teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of his neck, nipping lightly at his skin, and he curses.

“F-fuck! Horus!” The most delectable pressure building, heat snaking down his groin as Horus rocks down on him. Seth grunts, his hips bucking up. He can feel Horus’ breath against his lips, so close, so close. His blue eyes the color of the sky meeting the sea. Hot blue, burning sand, the sound of crashing veins. Terrified innocence staring up at him in absolute trust as he cradles Horus in his arms.

Seth jerks. Reality crashing into him as he jerks his wrists free and roughly shoves Horus away, his heart pounding, his mouth dry. Horus falls back, but continues watching him. Those damned blue eyes, lingering for too long over his lips, still too close even after Seth had pushed him, enough that Seth can feel his warmth and all he wants is to crawl into it, lose himself in it just like he did last night-

Haven’t you ruined that boy enough? Osiris’ voice crawls into his thoughts. Before he can grit his teeth and use well-honed cruelty to drive Horus away, as though the damage hasn’t been done, and done thoroughly. And then Seth’s phone rings. Seth answers it with as much composure he can manage.

“Seth,” Isis’ curt voice rings out through the speaker. “Did Horus stay with you last night?” Seth is silent.

“He’s here.” Seth finally answers, the words as bitten-out as his sister’s. Almost daring her to ask, feeling like he’s about to fly apart with any line of questioning she keeps up, and if she keeps up, he can’t promise himself the shards won’t cut her. Or Hours, beside him, watching him with those damned blue eyes.

Luckily for them all, Isis decides to tell them what she had called for.

“Sekhmet’s here. Ra has a new job for us.” Isis says at length. “Get to the warehouse in thirty minutes.” The line goes dead, and Seth lowers his phone, breathing out.

“Uncle…” Seth interrupts him before he can say anything else they’ll both regret.

“New job,” he says shortly, refusing to look Horus in the face. “You should go. We can’t afford to give Ra more ammunition against us.” Horus nods slowly. Slipping off the bed, and Seth hates himself for how alone he feels, all of a sudden. Wanting Horus to come back, but he forces the words back, refusing to watch Horus leave. The apartment too empty and too big.

When Seth gets to the warehouse, he starts when he sees that Anubis is still here instead of that job in India. He nods when Seth enters, but turn away, his expressionless face revealing nothing. When Isis comes in, she refuses to look at Seth at all. Seth in turn, refuses to acknowledge her son as he shadows her. Even as he feels that worried blue gaze on him.

Ra enters with Sekhmet, who tosses a sheaf of documents at Seth. “Well, Athanasiou’s moving faster than we expected.” Ra announces as she sits behind Isis’ workdesk, making Isis stiffen and Seth scowl. “He must have figured out that an extraction was carried out on him because I have word that his plans suddenly all changed.”

Seth sucks in a frustrated breath, flips open the first file. Athanasiou is talking with a middle-aged man in a white suit and flashy gold jewelry heavily laden with precious stones.

“I heard through the grapevine that he’s coordinating with organized crime groups based in Khemis, I need to get their spy network.” Sekhmet says. Ra leans forwards, her expression uncharacteristically serious as she looks at Seth.

“Should be easy enough for you guys, Kuentamen isn’t overmuch a genius, according to reports. But.” Ra steeples her fingers. “I’ll need assurance you can do this and get away. I can imagine New Alexandria’s reprisals will be very unpleasant, especially for the team that stole the first batch of information.” Seth’s guts twist.

After all, it’s your fault that our whole family’s been brought into this mess.

Seth pulls himself together. “It’ll get done,” he snarls out a promise. He stalks away, and even if he sees Anubis’ muted concern, Isis’ open contempt, Horus’ worry, he ignores them.

----------------------

Horus’ parents get to work. Though they’re mostly at home now, Horus doesn’t really see them any more than he used to back in their old city. They were always shut up in the office, or in important meetings with important people. Horus often peers in during the rare times the office was unlocked – usually when Uncle Seth was rushing to drop Anubis off at school (Horus’ school year would start a few weeks later), or when Mom and Dad had taken their discussion from the office to the kitchens over a cup of coffee.

Mom and Dad’s old office had been full of architectural plans and people discussing things with them. There is still that, but most of the time Horus sees two of the three grown-ups sleeping, hooked up to the same strange machine that he had seen Uncle Seth using that other night, the third watching over them. He always gets gently shooed away when he’s caught watching. Usually by Dad, who never tells Horus whatever it is they’re working on.

“We’re working on a new machine that can help us show people building designs before they’re even built.” Is all Mom says about it, though Horus can’t quite imagine how that’s supposed to work.

It’s only when he asks Uncle Seth that he gets an answer.

“It’s called a PASIV, and it’s a dream machine,” he explains over lunch. “It puts you to sleep, and you end up dreaming with the other people attached to the machine.” Horus gives him a puzzled look, and Anubis chimes in after swallowing a bite of his chicken and rice.

“Have you ever gone to sleep and woke up, then found out you were still actually dreaming?” Horus remembers his first dream here, the one with the red star, and nods.

“This machine helps you do that, but more easily so you don’t wake up so fast.” Uncle Seth clarifies. He pauses for a bit before speaking again. “Don’t ever try it yourselves, though. You’re little kids, and the sedative might be too strong for you.” Horus is a bit offended at being called little, but then Anubis nudges him with his elbow.

“We promise.” Anubis says dutifully, and Horus nods.

“Is dreaming together fun?” he asks curiously. Uncle Seth ruffles his hair. Horus feels his face warm, and he ducks his head.

“Yeah, it is. You just have to be really careful. That’s why your parents and I are running all these tests, to make sure it’s safe for everyone to use.” Then Mom and Dad come down from the laboratory, and Uncle Seth falls silent. Anubis nudges him again, gives him a meaningful look, and Horus gets the hint. They talk about Anubis’ taekwondo tournament and Horus’ school year starting, and neither of them bringing up the dream machine even though Horus is burning with curiosity.

Though his parents are busier than they’ve ever been, that doesn’t mean Horus is lonely, though. He likes it here well enough. He likes having someone to play with. Anubis is twelve – a Big Kid, and Horus feels tiny in comparison, but he’s friendly and he’s always happy to play. He likes Aunt Nepthys, who he sees least because she’s always at work in the laboratories in the city.

Most of all, he likes Uncle Seth. Uncle Seth is kind and gentle and funny. He’s a big kid himself, really, and he got into their games as enthusiastically as both he and Anubis do. Horus is a little jealous, sometimes. Uncle Seth was away shut up in the office as often as Dad, but he always made time to play with Anubis and Horus right after work. Auntie Nepthys always got home early from the labs, even with all the projects Horus always hears Mom say she’s juggling.

Maybe Uncle Seth can sense Horus’ jealousy, because he invites him to everything they do, all the time. Especially after Horus notices Mom and Dad having more and more of their tense, serious discussions they didn’t like Horus to hear. Usually Dad had the last word, and Mom would walk away to work in the office she kept separate from Dad’s home laboratory.

“They’re just having disagreements,” Uncle Seth reassures Horus. “Normal couple stuff. You’ll understand when you have a family of your own, okay? Even your Auntie Nepthys and I don’t always see eye to eye on things.” Horus makes a face at the thought of getting married, and Uncle Seth laughs.

“Relax, baby bird. It’s going to be okay. Once this project gets off the ground and your parents aren’t so stressed about getting the funding to develop it, they’re gonna be sweet and lovey-dovey again. You’ll see.” Horus trusts Uncle Seth, so he believes him.

But he can’t quite shake off the worry. Not when he creeps to the lab and sees it’s Uncle Seth and Mom’s turn to use the dream machine. Dad is watching over them. For some reason, he’s looking very intently at Uncle Seth, to the point he hasn’t even noticed Horus padding down the hall to peer at them.

Horus leaves as quietly as possible. He knows that if Dad catches him, he’ll get a grounding, or worse.

The next morning, he’s starting school. Uncle Seth is taking him. Anubis’ classes are at a separate building, so Uncle Seth drops him off first. Only when they’re alone does Horus get to ask his other question.

“Horus? What’s wrong? Feeling nervous, baby bird?” Horus looks up, then blurts out the worry he’s been turning over and over in his head.

“What if you don’t wake up from your dreams?” Horus asks. Uncle Seth looks very surprised for one second, then his expression goes serious as he drops down to look Horus in the eye.

“Of course we’ll always wake up. You kids are here.” Uncle Seth says, ruffling Horus’ hair and squeezing his cheek. “Whatever happens in the dream, you can bet we’ll be waking up to take care of you, okay? And to take you to school, even if you just want to sleep in and watch cartoons all day.” Horus makes an indignant sound, and Uncle Seth laughs, lets him go after checking he has his lunch money.

But the worry never entirely leaves him, and it’s never fully relieved even when all six of them come down together for dinner. Auntie Nepthys usually looks tired, though she smiles and fusses over Anubis and Horus both. Mom always looks serious these days. Only Dad smiles slightly more than he used to, usually at something Uncle Seth says. And usually, Horus catches Dad watching him whenever he tucks himself against Uncle Seth, whenever Uncle Seth ruffles his or Anubis’ hair, or talks to them, laughing at their jokes and listening to their stories.

“I suppose you quite like your uncle’s family, don’t you?” Dad asks, one time when he’s leading Horus to his room to get ready for bed. Horus nods, the wood beneath his feet creaking in the too-dark corridors, just like his first night here.

“Yeah, I do.” he says. Dad smiles. But something about his smile has Horus remembering how intently he was watching Uncle Seth, how he knows he’ll be in trouble if Dad finds out he saw him.

“That’s good,” he says. He looks like he’s about to say something else, but stops himself. Horus waits for him to speak, but Dad just pats his head, and heads back downstairs.

Later that night, Horus creeps down to the laboratory and sees Uncle Seth is hooked up to the dream machine again. Dad is leaning over him, touching his cheek, looking at him with a softness that makes Horus’ chest burn, because while he’d seen that softness on Uncle Seth’s face whenever he looked at Auntie Nepthys, he has never seen it on Dad’s face when looking at Mom.

As Horus watches, Dad picks up a curl of Uncle Seth’s hair, looking at it intently for a long moment before tucking it behind his ear. And Horus knows that if he stays, if Dad sees him, he’s going to be in more trouble than he’s ever been.

But the way Dad’s fingers are tracing Uncle Seth’s jaw, then his mouth without him knowing. Horus thinks of the fox he’d once seen worrying a rabbit’s carcass in the woods. He takes a step forwards, and Dad jerks away from Uncle Seth like his skin has burned him.

“What are you doing here?” Dad says, and his eyes are freezing cold. Horus swallows. He feels very, very small, and more frightened than he’s ever been in his life.

“Horus! You should be in bed!” Mom’s mad, but it’s her normal scolding mad and Horus feels relieved. And then Dad immediately steps towards Horus.

“I’ll take him. Look after Seth, see if the higher dosage won’t have any negative effects.” His hands are heavy on Horus’ shoulders as he steers him to his room. Horus tries to steal a glance back at Uncle Seth, but Dad’s hand forces his head forwards, and he can’t get even a glimpse of red hair as he’s all but dragged away.

“I don’t think I need to tell you not to tell anyone about what you saw,” Dad says. Horus is quiet.

“Why were you touching Uncle Seth?” he asks. Dad’s expression softens, but his eyes remain hard as ice. When he moves towards Horus, Horus steps back, his heart pounding.

“Are you sure that’s what you saw? I doubt it.” Before Horus can protest, he changes the topic.

“I doubt anyone else will believe you, including your Uncle Seth. Everyone might just get upset over your telling lies,” Horus opens his mouth to protest, but Dad presses on.

“Promise me you won’t say anything, Horus.” Dad says. “You know I don’t ask you to make promises often. Your mother is very tired, and you don’t want her to get very upset.” Horus is quiet. But he doesn’t want to upset Mom, and he has a feeling even if he told on Dad, Dad would deny it. No one will believe him, and he’ll just get in worse trouble. After a long moment, Horus nods.

Horus will just have to look out for Uncle Seth himself.

“I promise,” Dad looks satisfied. He pats Horus on the head. Only when the door closes does Horus finally breathe easily, as Dad’s footsteps fade and Uncle Seth’s groggy voice echoes in the corridor.

----

It’s a simple enough extraction, until it’s not. Seth had been able to set up the architecture of the dream, warily keeping an eye out for Osiris. Solidly ignoring Horus as much as he can throughout, speaking to him only when he has to. Unable to look at him when they enter the dreamspace, at his big blue eyes and the skinny vulnerability of his child’s form. Wrapping his arm around him as the projections peer at them in the chaotic souk they’d crafted as the first level of the dream only makes him feel worse, as Horus clings tight to the plain white robes he’s wearing.

Anubis glances at them, but before Seth can speak to him, he moves away to distract Kuentamen using the form of General Athanasiou. According to the files Isis had obtained, Kuentamen was not above bowing in subservience to more powerful than him, and it would be easier to turn him against his subconscious by weaponizing his grovelling.

It’s simple enough, until it’s not. Because as they progress to their second-level desert camp and Seth corners Kuentamen, he realizes it’s not Kuentamen he’s speaking to anymore.

“What the fuck-” Seth tries to move, but the sick smell of flowers fills the bedouin-style tent Kuentamen had invited him into, and thorny vines root him to the floor.

“Shameless,” Kuentamen murmurs in Osiris’ voice, and a chill goes through Seth as Kuentamen’s whole body changes, twisting into a familiar nightmare. He tries to struggle, succeeding in snapping some of the more fragile vines through sheer desperation, but more vines wrap around his ankles, coiling around his wrists. Holding him immobile as Osiris advances on him.

“How did you-” Seth chokes as his legs are forced apart by thick green vines. And then white-hot agony rams into his guts, and he screams.

“I told him what you were planning to do. He was more than happy to cede control of his dream to get the thieves out.” Osiris says, twisting the branches into Seth’s gut. Seth gasps in agony, in too much pain to even scream as Osiris presses in, forcing the vines into him, his breath hot against Seth’s clammy neck.

“Why are you struggling so hard? Take your punishment. You know you deserve this.” Osiris’ teeth finds its way to the juncture of Seth’s neck. Right at the spot Horus had kissed and bitten the night before, breaking skin just as he thrust the vines deeper into his abdomen. Until Seth was choking on his own blood.

“UNCLE!” Horus’ piping, horrified child’s voice rings out. Seth froze. Osiris rears back, his face pure malevolence, and Seth is finally able to move, hand jerking free and slicing off Osiris’ head with a khopesh.

More vines tear through the desert landscape, and the dream starts to collapse around them. Seth grabs at the chest Kuentamen had been absently stroking before Osiris had taken over him, yanking out the roll of papyrus inside. His vision is fading and his guts are practically leaking out of him, he can barely make out the words. And then small hands tug at the papyrus, and it’s all Seth can do to keep the vines from wrecking the tent as Horus memorizes the list.

The whole world dissolves like so much sand sweeping through the bowl of an hourglass. Seth reaches for Horus blindly, and he can feel H’orus small body in his arms, shielded from the falling rubble, his hands tangling in Seth’s hair.

And then Seth opens his eyes to the hotel room they had broken into, and retches violently onto the floor.

Dimly he can feel hands holding his hair out of his face. He looks up, expecting – needing - Horus beside him, but to his surprise sees Anubis, concern in his dark eyes. Just like when he was a child, with all his memories.

He violently wrenches his mind away from the past, his fingers trembling as he wipes his face, reaching for the hourglass just as he senses Horus kneel beside him, too close to be acceptable, that would have gotten a sharp rebuke or cold glare from Seth. But Seth barely pays attention to that now, because Kuentamen is lying on his back. His chest is horribly still, and a line of vomit trickles down his chin. Isis is leaning over him with a frown, her fingers pressed against the side of his neck.

“He’s dead,” she says, her voice strained. “His heart’s stopped.” Isis whirls towards Seth.

“Did you get the information we need?” Isis asks harshly. Seth turns the hourglass over with a trembling hand, keenly aware of Anubis’ body heat close to him and Horus’ hand dragging soothing circles on the small of his back. The phantom ache in his abdomen and the horror of Osiris’ violation pulsing through him as Horus answers Isis’ question.

“I have the list,” he says calmly, as the sand in Seth’s hourglass drains completely away. Isis’ eyes remain on Seth, narrowed.

“What happened? How could you fuck it up this badly-” Her voice is hard. As hard as the last time time they had first seen each other after Seth had fled, when she told him that she would never forgive him for what he had done to her and her family. Seth’s eyes sting. Before Seth could bite out a reply, Horus’ warm hands settle over his shoulders.

“Mom,” Horus’ voice is quiet but firm. “Not now.” Seth jerks in surprise when Anubis speaks.

“There’s no point in arguing about it. The mark is dead, but we got the information we needed.” He glances at Seth, and Seth apparently still has it in himself to burn with the shame of having his own son see him so weak. “We’ll leave separately after cleaning up. Go take Seth back to the safehouse. He needs to rest.”

Seth doesn’t remember anything from those hours between leaving the hotel and getting onto the train that would take them back to the safehouse Ra had set up for them. Only the warm arm around his shoulders, the solid line of Horus’ body beside his keeps him tethered to his being as he stares out the window of the train. The landscape slipping past them blurs and melts into a medley of color, and Seth grips his hourglass in his hand the whole time, turning it over and over, watching the sand collect at the bottom before flipping it over, doing his best to ignore Horus’ worried blue eyes.

When they get to the safehouse, Seth immediately heads for the bathroom, slamming the door behind him and running the bathtub until it’s full of scalding-hot water, stripping off his clothes. He splashes into the tub without caring how much water spills out to the floor, or how the heat burns his skin, his hourglass tucked into his hand.

His body is whole, unmarked, but the aftershocks of agony ring like the echoes of gunshots in his memory. Seth grabs at the skin of his abdomen, digging his nails in and twisting at the flesh. Half-wishing he could tear his own guts open, dig his fingers deep inside him and rip the phantom pain of Osiris’ violation out.

“Uncle,” Horus calls out from behind the closed door, and Seth flinches. “I’m coming in.” Seth curses when he realizes he’d forgotten to lock the bathroom door. Horus slips in, locks the door firmly behind him. Seth shivers, unable to look at his blue eyes. If he sees pity there, or disgust-

“Uncle,” Seth cannot stop shivering. Warm arms wrap around him, and the familiar comfort of them erodes what’s left of his shattered defenses.

It’s your fault he’s like this. Seth tries to push Horus away, but makes the mistake of looking up. At the soft worry in Horus’ beautiful blue eyes, his grief. The love he’d always worn openly on his face, but had now been twisted and changed into what had never been his to accept, like a dream he had lingered too long in and warped beyond recognition.

Seth can’t look at him anymore. He turns his face towards Horus’ shoulder, his tears soaking into the fabric of Horus’ jacket as the steam curls all around them. The hourglass falls onto the floor but mercifully does not break, as Horus strokes his hair and Seth’s world falls apart.

--------------

The night Horus catches Dad trying to touch Uncle Seth, is the night Horus starts seeing things a lot more clearly.

Dad is no longer warm with him. He still smiles at Horus as he used to, but there’s a coldness to his gaze when he looks at Horus that has Horus trying to avoid him as much as possible. That coldness only sharpens whenever he sees Horus with Uncle Seth. When they eat together, Horus notices that he’s not the only one Dad looks at with that coldness. Though Auntie Nepthys smiles often, she cannot often meet his eyes when he passes her food during dinner, and Anubis doesn’t seem to notice the frost at the edges of Dad’s smile when he acknowledges him.

Horus looks closely at Mom, but she’s been very tired as of late. All of the adults are. Anubis had told Horus that the investors paying Mom and Dad to develop the PASIV - were getting impatient, wanting it to be ready for use in a few months. Horus often overhears Mom and Dad having quiet, tense fights – usually Dad won, with Mom backing down, a frustrated look on her face as she agreed to what he said. Afterwards, Horus would find Dad and Uncle Seth talking late at night over cups of wine in the laboratory, Uncle Seth looks tired, and his voice sometimes gets as heated as Mom’s, but Dad calms him down again. From the shadows, Horus watches them quietly. But Dad doesn’t try to touch Uncle Seth again. Maybe because they had to ration their Somnacin out and Dad doesn’t want to risk getting caught if he did.

“Seth, you’re courting danger with the kind of investors you’re getting -”

“You really thought legitimate industries would be the one interested in the PASIV?” Uncle Seth snaps. Dad refills Uncle Seth’s wine glass.

“I’m just worried you’ll get hurt.” Uncle Seth lets out a groan of frustration.

“Osiris, I can handle it-” Horus tenses when Dad touches Uncle Seth’s shoulder. Uncle Seth relaxes, his voice dropping down too low for Horus to hear from the corridor.

Horus can only feel himself breathe easily when Uncle Seth and Dad end their conversations for the night, and Uncle Seth heads towards his room while Dad packs up.

One time, Uncle Seth catches him in the corridor leading to his room. Horus had been trying to creep back as quietly as possible, but then he’d run into a white shape in the dark. Hard.

“Oof!” Anubis winces, rubbing his abdomen with one hand, the other holding a small container of milk while Horus sat on the floor, winded. “Horus, what’re you doing up so late?”

“I could ask you that same question.” Uncle Seth says drily. Horus’ blood freezes when he sees Dad behind Uncle Seth, staring at Horus as he got to his feet. Anubis smiles sheepishly as a small meow from the pocket of his hooded jacket betrays its presence.

Uncle Seth’s eyebrow twitches as he reaches for it with one hand.

“Anubis, there’s a reason I forbade cats in the house. We have too many delicate instruments to risk having a squirmy little hellion to get into.” But Anubis gives Uncle Seth that familiar pout that sometimes made Horus want to kick him, as the kitten squirms and meows in Uncle Seth’s palm.

“But Dad, she’s so tiny, I don’t think she’d survive the night outside if we leave her…” Uncle Seth’s eyebrow twitches again. Then Dad speaks.

“We can keep her for a night. Tomorrow, we can take her to a good shelter to see if they can re-home her. If not, then if she’s well-behaved, she can stay.” Anubis beams in delight. Uncle Seth looks like he wants to protest, but he deflates at Dad’s pointed expression.

“All right,” he throws up his hands. “Anubis, make sure you’re the one cleaning up her mess, cat poop reeks and I don’t want to smell it everywhere in the house. The two of you might as well come with us, there’s ice cream in the freezer and work’s making my head ache.” Anubis grins at Horus as Uncle Seth plops the kitten back down into his palms.

The four of them eat ice cream together, the kitten drinking milk from a bowl Uncle Seth had set out for it on the floor. Horus watches Uncle Seth and Anubis deciding on the kitten’s name, pushing the vanilla ice cream in his bowl around, wondering if they were seeing what he was seeing as Dad had chats with them good-naturedly. If they were seeing the tension around Dad’s throat, the cold blackness of his eyes. How his gaze rarely if ever leave Uncle Seth, and how the edges of his lips tighten whenever Anubis interrupted their discussion about the PASIV with questions.

Horus listens, does not speak. Later, Uncle Seth waves away Dad’s offer to bring Horus and Anubis to bed, a very sated kitten curled in Anubis’ arms.

“Your turn to deal with the dishes,” Uncle Seth grins before hurrying Anubis and Horus along. Horus chances a glance back, and immediately looks away when he sees the darkness in Dad’s gaze.

They drop off Anubis and the kitten – now named Simba - in his room first. Horus clings to Uncle Seth in the dark corridor leading to his room, not because he’s afraid but because he wants to keep Uncle Seth with him.

“You’ve been awfully quiet lately.” Uncle Seth says as he tucks Horus into bed. “Is there anything you want to tell me that you can’t tell your Mom or Dad?” Horus fiddles with the stuffed eagle that he knew he was too old for, but couldn’t bring himself to put away.

“Horus? You can tell me. I won’t get mad.” Horus freezes, before blurting out.

“Uncle Seth, what if someone likes you?” Uncle Seth looks surprised. Then he grins, delighted.

“So someone has a crush on you? Of course you do, you look like Anubis, he had plenty of his schoolmates mooning over him before he even hit puberty.” Horus shakes his head quickly, feeling a little chagrined at Uncle Seth’s mention of Anubis.

“Or it’s the other way around? There’s someone you like, isn’t there?” Uncle Seth’s grin widens, andHorus turns very, very red. He shakes his head so quickly that he gets dizzy and Uncle Seth cackles, and even through his embarrassment Horus is stunned with how much he wants to hear it again, over and over.

“Oh, you kids. It’s fine. When I was your age I was already pining over your Auntie Nepthys. I couldn’t even speak to her without stammering.” Uncle Seth ruffles his hair, and Horus pushes past the hot lump that unexpectedly rises in his throat at that.

“Have you ever liked someone else, though? Or has anyone else ever liked you?” Uncle Seth pokes him in the cheeks.

“I wouldn’t have married your Auntie Nepthys if she hadn’t been my one and only, from the very start.” Once again, Horus feels that hot lump in his throat. “As for other people liking me – why would I even notice them? My family is the love of my life.” He thinks of Dad’s fingers stroking Uncle Seth’s throat.

“What about Dad?” Horus asks seriously. Uncle Seth blinks. “What about me?” Uncle Seth’s expression softens.

“Of course including you.” Horus knows he’s too old for it, but he throws himself at Uncle Seth, anyway, as tightly as he can. Uncle Seth makes a muffled sound of surprise, but hugs him back.

“I know things are hard now,” Uncle Seth murmurs. “Your parents are both busy and tired. But I promise, it’ll get better, okay? We’ll finish the project and get the funders off our backs, and pretty soon they’ll be scrambling to pay us even more to use our project than they already have.”

Horus doesn’t answer. He winds his fingers around Uncle Seth’s beautiful hair, his heart too full and with none of the right words coming to his mouth. He falls asleep like that, as Uncle Seth strokes the back of his head.

They neither of them see the shadow beyond the doorway. Listening, watching, as Horus falls asleep in Uncle Seth’s arms, for what would be one of their final nights together as a family.

------------------

During their next debriefing, Isis does not tell Ra the details about what happened, only that Kuentamen had a heart condition he had been hiding, and without that variable they had severely miscalculated the dosage of Somnacin he could withstand.

Ra raises an eyebrow at Seth, but Seth glowers at her. The phantom pain in his gut twinges. Isis is beside him, and just a little ways behind her is Horus. Seth ignores the sweep of his gaze over the room, lingering too long on him. The worry there he hasn’t been able to entirely hide, even as Seth had scraped himself together after the last job, all his walls up, shutting Horus out.

“I’m disappointed in you, Isis. Usually you do too thorough a job researching your target’s background. Unless you’re hiding something from me, hmm?” Ra continues staring at Seth. Seth glares back at her as good as he’s getting. Beside him, Anubis watches everything with his usual impassive expression.

“I wouldn’t bother,” Isis says flatly. “Kuentamen came from the gutter and lived there for most of his days. He didn’t exactly have much by way of a proper medical record, only a criminal one.” Beside Ra, Sekhmet fondles a gold chain around her throat as she gives Horus a knowing glance he staunchly ignores.

“I’ll let it go for now since his life wasn’t that valuable. But next time it happens…” Ra trails off, giving Horus a slow once-over. Isis bristles, but backs down as Horus puts a hand on her shoulder.

“It won’t.” Isis’ voice is curt. “All of Athanasiou’s government contacts are in that folder. If you don’t mind, we’ll get going to research the next mark.” Ra waves her hand, but her eyes are cold as she watches the four of them leaving.

They get to the warehouse. To Horus’ surprise (and resentment), Anubis speaks to Seth first.

“Are you recovered?” A fragile look crosses over Seth’s face, and then he visibly collects himself.

“I’m fine,” he says, his voice still tight and strained despite his attempts to hide it. “It was just a dream. It wasn’t real.” Anubis doesn’t press the issue, but Horus sees his gaze on Seth’s hand, clenched tight around his hourglass.

“I’ll have to get going, then.” Anubis says. “Call me when you have need of me, I’m heading for another job in Beijing.” Seth unclenches his fingers around his hourglass, pushing it deep into his pocket before reaching for Anubis.

“Take care.” His hand brushes against Anubis’ shoulder, and Horus remembers the fuzzy memory of Seth wiping Anubis’ face, then Horus’ after an intense day of playing outside. Perhaps some vestiges cling to Anubis’ mind, because he suddenly frowns.

“Anubis? What’s the matter?” At Seth’s hopefulness, Anubis goes closed off again.

“It’s nothing. I’ll be going.” He takes his duffel bag from the desk he’d set it in and sets off. Resentment flares in Horus as Seth drops his hand, looking broken.

“Horus,” Isis says. She inclines her head towards the conference room. “We need to discuss the next target.” She turns towards Seth.

“I doubt you can manage being the extractor for the next job. You’d better just head to your flat.” Seth scoffs a little under his breath, but Horus sees the hurt that blooms across his face, and his chest aches as Seth turns towards his sister with a glare.

“Why didn’t you just tell Ra, that I’m not up for the job anymore?” Seth’s voice is hard. “I thought you were that eager to see me gone.” Isis glares at him, her brow twitching.

“Fucking up a dream enough to get caught is one thing. This time, you got someone killed. I didn’t even know that was possible.” Isis retorts, the brittle expression on her face mirrored by the fury on Seth’s. “Ra’s not risking that kind of liability. Not when she doesn’t trust us not to assassinate her any more than we trust her not to dispose of us when convenient.” Isis drops the files on the table.

“The sooner Horus and I can discuss our next possible targets, the sooner this day can end.” Isis says. Seth scoffs.

“Are you kidding me, Isis? You think the baby bird can help you plan a whole heist?” He glances at Horus, and Horus burns under the glare Seth sends him. And Horus knows Seth copes by lashing out, but -

Cruelty is cruelty. Seth’s mockery still hurts. Horus looks away. A ripple of remorse crosses Seth’s expression before Isis slams a hand down on the table.

“Fine,” She seethes. “We’ll run it by you, since you’re the expert here. An expert thief, in more ways than one.” Horus swiftly gets in between them when Seth takes a step forwards, his expression black with rage.

“We’re all tired,” Horus says firmly. “It’s best if we rest. The new job can wait till tomorrow morning.” Isis fixes her glare on him next, but he stares back unflinching.

“Fine,” Isis finally snaps. “Horus, keep an eye on your uncle, make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

That has Horus blinking in surprise. As soon as Isis has gone, Seth turns to leave, his shoulders shaking, shoving Horus away when he tries to reach for him.

“Uncle-” Seth’s eyes are red at the corners as his back hits the wall, as Horus keeps him pinned there by his firm waist. He looks exhausted, a beaten animal that had dragged itself away to what it thought would be a safe place to hide - only to find it was trapped, and that it had nowhere left to run.

“Seth,” Horus sighs as he leans down, tucking his face against Seth’s shoulder and inhaling his comforting scent. Sand and salt and wind, the warmth of Seth’s skin against his. Memories of a vast, boundless world where it was only the two of them.

“Fuck off-” Seth hisses. His voice breaks, hot tears sliding down his cheeks. “You spoiled brat, you’re not a child anymore-” All the strength leaves him as Horus’ fingers stroke at the firm curve of his waist, holding him tight. He slumps back against the wall, which only brings Horus closer against him, their bodies flush against each other, the two of them breathing each other’s air.

Seth looks at Horus through half-lidded eyes, his lashes rimed with tears and trembling, his shaking fingers closing bruising-tight over Horus’ wrists. They stare at each other, the moment hanging slow and suspended like a dream before waking.Trapped in the single moment that would change everything.

Seth makes the decision for him. His eyes shining with desperation as he releases Horus’ wrist only to grip the back of Horus’ head, and then he’s tugging him down for a kiss.

The kiss is just as Horus has always dreamed it would be, Seth’s mouth lush and soft, searing hot as Horus slips his tongue inside, his body hot with desire through the layers of his suit, the rock-hard bulge in his pants grinding against Horus’ and driving him mad as he grinds down against Seth.. It also ends far too soon, and Seth is jerking away, sucking in a breath, his eyes wide with horror., his lips bruised.

“Horus, I’m- shit, we shouldn’t-” Horus silences him with another kiss, just as ravenous, just as deep. Kisses him until Seth is moaning, quivering as his hands roam down over his body. Unbuttoning Seth’s shirt, unbuckling his belt, tugging down his pants and underwear until he’s completely naked, his body flushed all over and his cock dripping and erect between his legs. Seth doing the same for him, shivering as his hands move down Horus’ bare back, arching up as Horus bears down on him, grinding his cock against Seth’s. Seth whimpers, and Horus hands closing over his hips, keeping him from slipping past his hands like sand in an hourglass.

Seth cries out as Horus grinds down on him. His eyes snapping open, turning pleading, red at the corners and Horus burns with the memory of the last time he saw Seth with that expression. Curled up in bed and covered in bruises while Horus clung to him, listening to his racing heartbeat while Seth tried to soothe himself by soothing him.

Horus stops. Waiting for Seth to catch his breath, for his shivering to cease. Seth gasps against his hand, his eyes rimed with tears. Gradually, gradually he calms. Eventually, Seth looks up with reddened eyes, brushes his lips against Horus’. One kiss, then another. Slowly recovering the rhythm of their desire, and Horus takes his time. Kissing Seth until he’s chased the cold out of his skin, the flagging half-mast of his cock hard against his own. Seth’s body flushed hot under his, his beautiful skin tinted pink.

When they come, it’s with soft gasps and even softer touches, Horus thrusting against Seth’s hip and Seth melting, slumping against the wall, his eyes going glazed as Horus swallows his soft cries with deep, searching kisses, his arms gripping his waist the only thing keeping him upright. Like he can taste the words Seth refuses to speak out loud more than seven years on. Seth kisses him back, the tear tracks sticky against his cheeks. Horus kisses him on the temple, kisses the salt away, his chest aching as Seth’s unsteady fingers card through his hair.

Horus releases Seth when he’s sure he can support his weight, and they stumble towards the cot. The room reeks of sex – Horus makes a mental note to clean before Isis arrives the next day. It’s a tight squeeze, but they manage. Seth drags a blanket over them both, and Horus watches his tired face.

Seth groans. “Go to sleep, Horus.” Horus tucks Seth against him, an arm around his waist. Watching his eyes drift shut, and Horus follows.

-----------

When Horus thinks back to the day it all ended (or started, if one were to look at it like a closed loop of events that all led to one inevitable point), he can still remember how it all happened, quite clearly. It’s everything else that came before, that was hidden in the murk.

Isis tells him, later, that it was an effect of being in Limbo for so long. Years of new memories had pushed out the old ones, until all Horus can remember of his childhood was the echo of warmth, Isis’ eyes softer than he ever saw in the waking world, silky red hair that covered him like a tent, like a world keeping him warm and close and safe.

In the prism of his memory, Horus gets home from school, frowning at the half-open door. Anubis sometimes gets home earlier than him, but he never leaves the door open. He remembers that Uncle Seth and his parents are supposed to be away that day, meeting with an investor. That investor had been very upset with all the delays, from what Horus had overheard.

And then he sees Anubis’ schoolbag lying on the hallway, his water jug rolled to a stop. The back of Horus’ neck prickles, and he knows he has to call someone immediately.

Before he can reach for the telephone, a heavy hand wraps tight around his mouth. Horus struggles, trying to yell, and then he feels a pinprick. His eyes suddenly feel too heavy, and the world goes dark around him, his struggling body falling heavy and still.

When Horus opens his eyes, he chokes and gasps as he’s buffeted this way and that by massive waves, more frightened than he’s ever been in his life. Another wave hits him, and he cries out for his mother, for Uncle Seth as he’s pulled further and further away from the strip of land he can barely see among the towering waves. His sobs reaching only the empty sky as he cries alone.

-----------

The job continues. Anubis takes over as lead extractor and Horus as architect, under Seth’s grudging guidance and Horus’ equally grudging cooperation. Their newest mark would be the trickiest – a man approaching his elder years that they had to extract a confession from. Isis had narrowed in on a spy in Ra’s own network that turned out to be on Kuentamen’s payroll, and wanted to find out how much he had revealed to Athanasiou. Normally Ra would have one of her underlings – likely Sekhmet - interrogate him physically, but the man was frail, and they didn’t want to risk the information dying with him before they could get at it.

The concentration of Somnacin had to be a special blend that was potent enough to keep him asleep but not enough to risk him never waking up, but given he was Ra’s employee, Fenu was easy enough to get hold of and easier to keep - it would be easy enough to rifle through his mind and take the information they needed.

As usual, their assumptions quickly went straight to hell.

It was a gentle enough dream. They were in Fenu’s comfortable home office during a birthday celebration for Fenu’s grandson, with Anubis was pretending to be Mayet, Fenu’s wife, speaking to him over cups of tea and getting him to let his guard down while dropping suggestions about what secrets would be safer if he told her. All the while, Fenu anxiously kept glancing at the file cabinet, Horus watching unseen from a corridor while outside children shriek in delight and adults laugh.

Anubis catches Horus’ eye as he pats Fenu’s arm, helping him up. Fenu gives the file cabinet one last glance as Fenu was led out to the party, and it’s no matter for Horus to open the file cabinet and take out what they need and memorize it (though he does have to stand on a stool to get to the top). But on his way out, he sees Fenu freeze. Staring at the end of the corridor leading out of his office, Anubis beside him, and Horus sees his expression sharpens as Fenu starts to babble.

“No, not you -” Fenu’s voice quakes. “No. Please. That was all in the past.” Anubis frowns in confusion, but then he sees the direction Fenu is looking at and falls still. And then Horus steps forwards from the dark.

The bodies of two boys. No, not bodies. They are asleep, breathing in and out, hooked to a terribly familiar machine. Horus stares at his own sleeping face, still as death, and Anubis’ child’s body lying down beside his, and it suddenly feels very difficult to breathe.

“This was in the past. No. I’ve made up for all of it.” Fenu glances wildly around him. He catches sight of Horus, the real Horus, and he blanches further.

“You. You’ve never been awake before.” His voice rises, getting increasingly panicked. “This is an extraction-”

Before Anubis can stop him, the old man quickly wrenches himself away. An earthquake tears through the dream, shaking it to its foundations and throwing them awake.

Horus opens his eyes and immediately pushes himself up, ignoring Isis’ startled “What are you doing?” as he heads towards Fenu. Fenu’s faded eyes open blearily, then he jerks in alarm, scrambling away from the bed, but Seth too is already awake, as is Anubis.

When Fenu tries to flee, Horuscatches him with a hand around his throat, none-too-gently cuffing him and tossing him back onto the cot he had been lying down in. Ra had summoned him to her office in order to discuss his impending retirement, and he had trustingly followed, only to be shot full of Somnacin and hooked up to a PASIV.

His terrified gaze lands on Anubis and Seth, and he lets out a shrill choking cry of terror that Horus just as quickly stifles, his eyes blazing.

“Horus, stop-!” Isis’ voice is sharp with alarm. Horus’ fingers tighten around Fenu’s throat, and then he feels warm fingers wrapping around his wrist, tugging him away from the old man. Fenu drops to his knees, wheezing, only to be held in a headlock by Anubis.

“Oi, bird-brain. What happened?” Seth demands, reaching up to cradle Horus’ face between his palms. his hands warm on Horus’ face, his voice sharp with concern. “What’s gotten into you?” Isis is watching them, her face pinched, but in his worry Seth seems to have forgotten they’re with the others.

“Uncle, it was him.” Horus finds himself saying. His voice cracks, a child telling someone he trusts about the stranger who had hurt him. Seth’s eyes widen, going dark as Horus completes his sentence. “The one who broke in and drugged us.”

“We saw ourselves as projections in his dream.” Anubis explains, his voice even more grim than usual. Seth blanches, and Isis goes very still, gripping the back of her chair tightly. Very lowly, Seth lets go of Horus and turns towards to Fenu, a horrible expression on his face.

“You were the one who did that to my family?” Seth asks, very quietly. Low. Lethal. Fenu whimpers. Seth stares down at him with eyes like death, and sharp crack sends the old man squealing in pain.

Another sharp crack, and Fenu crumples. Seth’s hand is still upraised, but Anubis has him by the wrist. Fenu is gibbbering, blood dribbling down his chin from his burst lip. He cowers when Seth wrenches his wrist away from Anubis and advances on him.

“On whose orders?” Seth snarls, grabbing Fenu by the throat and shaking him like a rag. “Did Ra send you to do this?” Isis is the one to respond.

“He wasn’t Ra’s employee back then,” Isis says, her voice like ice, her expression even more terrifying than Seth’s and Fenu visibly quails in Seth’s grip when she takes a step closer. “Seven years ago, he was working for Caravan Corporation, a smaller company that was eventually acquired by ENNEAD. Remember that name?” Seth flinches.

“Those fuckers.” Seth breathes. “A shell company for organized crime. Yeah, I remember you. You were offering to buy us out, but we refused.” Fenu lets out a strangled grunt.

“I didn’t have a choice,” Fenu rasps, his frail body shaking as he fruitlessly tries to claw at Seth’s hand. “I was just doing my job,” Isis reaches forwards and grabs his face, her fingers digging into his jaw, and Fenu cries out, cowering.

“You think that absolves you?” She snaps, her eyes blazing. “That you were just paid to drug two children and cause them irreparable brain damage, and that’s not on your hands?” She looks close to strangling him, and Seth doesn’t look like he’s inclined to stop her.

Anubis is watching the adults carefully, then Horus. Their eyes meet, and they had never been close as adults but Horus knows exactly what Anubis is thinking now: that this is the first time in almost ten years that brother and sister were in accord. Horus decides to step in before anything happens to Fenu, sliding his hand into Isis’ to calm her down while clinging to Seth’s elbow, feeling the tension there when Seth speaks.

“I’m more interested in how this lowlife managed to get wind of the whole extraction process.” Seth says. His voice is the coldest that Horus has ever heard it, utterly empty of emotion - which tells Horus how furious he is. His gaze snaps to Horus.

“Prepare the PASIV. I’m going under.” He gives Horus an equally freezing glance. “Alone.”

“Seth-” Isis flares in concern. Seth interrupts her.

“I’ll get the information we need, and then some.”Seth says, with that same blank emptiness. “Don’t worry. I can fucking manage this myself.” Isis refuses to hear of it.

“I’m accompanying you,” Isis snaps. “You need someone to collapse the dream and wake you up when – not if - things go south.” Seth’s shoulders stiffen. The two siblings glare daggers at each other, and Horus readies himself to intervene.

“Fuck it,” Seth finally says. “Don’t blame me if you won’t like what you see down there.” He backhands Fenu across the face when he tries to struggle again, and Fenu retches, coughing broken teeth out as he stays put. He struggles feebly when Horus and Anubis haul him up and pin him down on his back for Isis to sedate, but he’s too weak to escape. As Anubis none-too gently drops Fenu back onto the cot at Isis’ behest when he loses consciousness, Horus goes over to Seth’s side as he prepares to slide the needle into his wrist.

“Uncle-” Seth shoots him down before he can even finish.

“Someone needs to make sure the old man doesn’t die in his sleep,” he snaps, agitated.

“We’re going with you,” Anubis says firmly. Seth looks like he’s about to yell at him, but he smoothly interrupts. “I’ll be the dreamer and keep the level stable. The others might have problems managing it with their emotional state.” Seth swallows, his throat flexing and as he glances away from Anubis’ face, avoiding Horus’ eyes. Horus stifles the jealousy that always simmers too close to the surface whenever Anubis is concerned, knowing it’s for the best that Anubis be the one to insist. He knows Seth can never say no to his son.

Isis glances over at them, a strange look crossing her face, and Horus realizes he and Seth are standing too close together. Seth notices her noticing, and his throat works as he steps backwards.

“Fine,” he snaps. “We’ll go. Don’t blame me if things go south and there’s no one to clean shit up here on the surface.”

They prepare to go under. Just before Seth slides the needle into his wrist, he speaks to Horus, grasping him by the upper arm.

“Horus,” Seth says. “After we come back. Look after your mother.” His voice trembles, and Horus nods.

“I promise,” he answers, and he feels the lines of heat as Seth’s fingers slip away., As the needle pierces his skin and the sedatives slip into his veins, Horus watches Seth’s eyes close, and then his own.

He opens them by the lakeside village that was Fenu’s hometown, Isis and Seth on either side of him, and Seth immediately reaches out to push Horus behind him, his hand resting on his shoulder. Fenu is sitting by the water’s edge, and he looks up when Anubis slips past Horus in the form of Fenu’s sister-in-law.

“Hello, brother-in law.” Fenu’s face twists in terror and Horus remembers he had been a suspect in her disappearance. Nothing had ever come from the investigation, with even her sister swearing by her husband’s innocence. It’s a common gambit of Anubis’ to extract a confession, to wear the face of someone the mark had wronged and trigger feelings of guilt to scythe all over the dreamscape, bringing other memories out of the dark.

True enough, as Anubis begins to speak, cracks begin to appear along the foundations of the household, the roads, the date palms, the people themselves. Anubis twists his form into a black-winged ba bird, and Fenu’s eyes remain riveted to it, his eyes bulging and sweat dripping down his withered cheeks as he denies his sins over and over again. Yet his memories betray him. There was the sound of Mayet’s sister screaming as hired thugs dragged her away. There was the weeping of women in cages as their mouths ran blood.

Isis is walking ahead, grim-faced, pointedly avoiding looking at Horus. Seth tugs Horus after him just as he used to do along an endless beach, the two of them following Isis down the streets of the village. Empty-eyed children stare at them, the blankness even more chilling than outright hostility, and Seth keeps a protective arm around Horus’ shoulders in the way he would never allow himself to do when they’re both awake, as Horus tucks himself against his side and ignores the eyes on them.

Isis stops in front of a dingy building. Unlike the ramshackle but comfortable huts of the village, this building looks distinctly urban in form, like it had been carved from a chunk of city and deposited here. Isis pushes open the door, and Seth follows her, pushing Horus behind him but still holding onto his hand. Around the room are seats of quietly conversing people, the stench of cigarettes and sweat, and a flight of steps leading downstairs. Isis frowns, then heads downstairs, followed by her brother and her son.

And then suddenly, she stops. Seth halts in his tracks, and Horus bumps into his back. They’re in a spacious but musty basement space, and Fenu is yawning, stretching on a mattress spread out on the concrete floor. There is a needle in his wrist, and he retracts it, handing it to the man seated beside him on a folding chair, half-hidden in the cool dark of the room. The man discards the needle, winds the tube and tucks it into the familiar silver suitcase that contained the PASIV, snapping the lid shut.

A thorny vine wraps itself around Seth’s wrist, crawling under his sleeve. Horus slowly squeezes Seth’s hand, and it retracts, crumbles. Isis glances over at them, a furrow between her brows, but Seth doesn’t even seem to have noticed. His eyes are trained on the two men. Fenu looks healthier here, his body well-built instead of hunched-over with age, his cheeks not yet sunken though his eyes already have dark bags carved beneath them. The features of his companion are obscured in the dark, as if he had taken special pains not to be neither seen nor recognized in the run-down establishment.

“Congratulations, Doc. You outdid yourself, that was way more real than I thought it would get.” Fenu says. His fingers flex eagerly, weak sunlight glinting on jewelled rings.

“I’m glad you’re satisfied. Does this mean you’ll take the job?” Osiris’ smooth, even voice has Seth going stiff with terror. Horus presses himself against his side, and Seth inhales, catching his eye and jerking his chin towards Isis. Isis, staring at her dead husband with a combination of such longing and despair that it chills Horus as much as it rips his heart in half.

Fenu grins. “Blackmail, you name it. Find something to threaten them with, and they always break.” His eyes glitter. “For a price, of course.”

“I promise you this technology will only keep on paying for itself when you master it.” Horus moves so he’s between the two of them, so that his shoulder brushes against Isis’ arm but close enough to Seth that he can still feel Horus’ heat, if he needs it.

“An additional thing before we clinch the deal.” Osiris says. He leans forwards. Isis sucks in a breath, takes a step forwards too. And then Osiris speaks, and Isis freezes in her tracks.

“My business partner and his wife have children. Two young boys. Both of them have been quite reticent to take certain risks despite much already being in the line.” Osiris says, his black eyes shining with a cold, dead light. One of the few things Horus can remember from his childhood. “I want to send a message across to them.” Isis’ breath goes labored. Horus reaches over and clings to her arm, feeling the tension coiled there, the furious betrayed anguish she’s fighting to contain behind a mask of rage.

“… What kind of message?” Fenu asks curiously.

“Something clear,” Osiris replies, his expression growing thoughtful, chillingly like the way he used to ponder business deals. “Would you care for a second demonstration of the product I’m selling?”

There is a pause. Seth’s jaw is so tight that Horus can hear his teeth grinding, and Horus keeps a close eye on him and Isis both, alert for any thorny vines to erupt, for the stench of flowers to fill the room. Then Fenu chuckles, pours himself three fingers of brandy, raises it to Osiris in a toast before taking a sip.“Your business partner’s wife is threatening to blab that you’re screwing, and you want to shut her up? Or the kids up, because they’ve seen too much?” He grins, and Isis’ fists shake. Osiris’ expression goes frosty.

Fenu snickers. “Don’t worry, I can keep a secret. Maybe these kids can’t, but just pay me and my lips are sealed tight forever.”

“I’m holding you to that, Mr. Fenu.” Osiris says coolly. Then he lifts his bed, looks straight at Seth.

The world wavers, cracking and crumbling earth rumbling heavy all around them. “It’s time to go,” Seth’s harsh voice rings throughout the landscape. Vines crawl over the linoleum floor, and Horus shakes Isis’ frozen arm.

“Mom-” The ground completely gives way beneath them. Horus has a split-second of falling, of his fingers slipping past Isis before she snatches at him and clutches him tight-

And then his eyes are snapping open. Anubis is already awake, securing a struggling Fenu and watching Seth closely as Seth stumbles up, his eyes bloodshot. Fenu whimpers, his feet twitching, but his limbs remain still \as Anubis slides the needle out of his wrist.

“He’s alive,” Seth says, vicious with satisfaction, his movements jerky as he bandages his wrist. “Don’t worry, he’ll be alive for a while. I just don’t know how long with everything we’ve found out.” Despite his own grogginess, Horus heads to Isis’ side as she wakes up all the way. Her face is chalk-white as she pushes herself up from the cot, her expression terribly blank as she stalks over to Seth. Seth stares back at her, his brow bristling, yet his eyes wide with a painful hope that Horus hadn’t seen in years.

“You knew,” Isis says, her voice terribly blank. Silence, and Seth jerks his chin up in a curt nod.

“Osiris himself told me.” His voice shakes, and Isis raises her hand and slapsSeth. Hard enough that he falls right back onto the cot, his expression stunned.

“You-” Seth flinches but makes no move to stop Isis when she moves to hit him again. “You knew. You goddamn knew that he was the one who had the kids drugged and you didn’t! Fucking! Tell me!” before Horus can catch her arm, Isis lowers it, her teeth gritted as she speaks.

“Why-” Seth’s voice breaks on his answer.

“What good would it have done for you to know? You would’ve blamed me for it, just like you blame me for everything else.” Seth’s voice cuts off. Isis’ expression crumples for a moment at the sheer hurt in Seth’s voice. But just for a moment before it hardens again. She walks out of the room, her shoulders stiff, and Horus follows her. Glancing backwards at Seth and his reddened cheek, his gaze fixed on the rushing sand on his hourglass.

Once again he’s feeling torn in half. And then Anubis speaks.

“I’m staying with him,” Anubis says. Even after that revelation, he remains utterly, impossibly calm, despite the furrow between his strong brows that make him look too much like Osiris. His dark eyes flicker towards Horus before returning to Seth. “Go. I’ll tell you if anything happens.” Seth looks so small on the cot as he touches his swollen cheek with his fingertips. Horus kneels in front of him, his hand covering Seth’s as he tilts his face towards him.

“Uncle,” Horus murmurs. It’s too soft, too tender for a nephew towards his uncle, but Horus can’t bring himself to care, not even with Anubis watching. “You’re awake. I’ll be back, I promise.” Seth’s hand quivers in Horus’.

“Go to your Mom,” Seth croaks out. “She needs you more than me.” Horus nearly presses a kiss against his forehead, but Seth’s eyes sharpen in warning, that awful glaze fading from his eyes as he shoves at Horus. That has Horus’ chest easing as he gets to his feet, sprinting out of the warehouse to the only other place Isis must be.

When Horus gets to their apartment, Isis is there, sitting in the ruins of Osiris’ memorial altar. She’s sitting on the couch, holding a framed photograph in her hands, the glass shattered as if she’d picked it up off the floor after throwing it hard enough to break. With a jerk, Horus realizes he remembers that photograph. The one Seth had told him was the last holiday they’d spent together as a family before everything changed, the one Horus had found broken the day he came home to find everything had been destroyed.

A sharp piece of glass in his hand, sinking into flesh. Now that he’s older, he can see that Nepthys was badly frightened, beneath her sweet soft smile. That Isis looked tired and frustrated. That Seth was holding both Horus and Anubis like he wanted nothing more than to shield them, but who could have known that the person he needed to protect them from was the father that was standing behind them all, watching over them with a soft, indulgent smile that only ever chilled Horus for what it had been hiding.

“Mom?” Seven years on, and an eternity after Limbo, the word still feels strange in his mouth. Slowly, Isis turns to look at him. Horus’ guts clench when he sees that familiar expression on her face.

Who are you, and what did you do to my son?

Isis exhales. “Did you know, too?” She asks, her voice exhausted. Horus doesn’t answer. He doesn’t know what to answer. He doesn’t remember what he used to do to comfort her. He doesn’t remember if he ever said the right words, or what he used to do to make her smile.

He only knows his training on how to use the PASIV, first to live a life on the run, then to buy their freedom, any way possible.

Horus tugs the photograph out of Isis’ hand, and Isis lets him. She reaches for Horus, and Horus lets her tug his head down onto her lap just like Seth would do, her fingers scratching at his head in a way that makes familiarity rise up through the murk of his half-remembered childhood memories. Instinct has him cling harder to her even though he’s no longer a child in a dream, as Isis kisses the top of his head, and his face.

“My precious boy, I’m so sorry.” Horus’ feels his own eyes sting, though Isis’ cheeks remain dry and her fingers continue scratching at the top of his head.

-----------

In his dreams, Seth relieves the horror of that day.

He watches himself come home, hungry, angry, and exhausted. His head pounding from the argument he and Isis had regarding funding, yet again, on top of the pressure from their present investors, especially the ones impatient to have their own PASIV at their disposal. More and more he’s debating whether or not he should take up Sekhmet’s offer to develop the project exclusively for Ra, Isis’ issues with her former boss be damned, but Osiris had told him to wait and see, to not be so heedless and impulsive, they were dealing with some very dangerous people. And then on top of everything else, was everything going on with Nepthys. Nepthys more often than not kept staying late nights at the labs, and it’s not like Seth doesn’t trust her, but -

He can only trust someone so much when she refuses to talk to him, when more often than not he sees her worrying at her lower lip in anxiety, or fiddling with her phone. And if things between him and Isis weren’t so strained, he would go talk to her, but Osiris had told him Isis was already struggling herself and he didn’t want to burden her with his own problems on top of the ones he keeps giving her-

He knows something’s wrong the moment he sees Anubis’ things lying in the hallway to the living room. Anubis always put away his things the moment he got home, and then he sees Horus’ blue and yellow cap lying on the floor besides Anubis’ water jug -

Seth freezes, for one awful moment before rushing to the living room, then damn near falling to his knees. Horus and Anubis are lying side by side, so still that they could be corpses. Their wrists are hooked up to the PASIV.

Seth crawls over to the PASIV, shaking as he reads the monitor. The sedative they’d been testing out was the most potent yet that Nepthys had designed, one that would keep the dream levels stable for greater periods of time. Almost too strong for an adult’s body, let alone that of two children thoroughly unacclimatized to Somnacin.

Seth shakes Anubis, then Horus. Slapping them, shouting as he hoists Anubis’ body up and tries to drop him, to generate a kick that would wake him up, to no avail. The sedative was already almost too strong for an adult, let alone a child. So potent that it would only send them to Limbo.

He barely feels his lips as he makes one urgent phone call, speaking before Nepthys can greet him.“Call Isis and Osiris and get back home. Someone-” It was impossible that either boy could have gotten to the PASIV themselves, they were good kids. Seth’s voice breaks when he finishes the sentence. “Someone’s hooked Anubis and Horus to the PASIV. I need to go find them and bring them back.” He drops his phone, lies down and jams the needle into his wrist.

Almost instantaneously, Seth wakes up on a beach, gasping and vomiting a mouthful of sand. Waves, crash all around him, soaking him and chilling him to the bone. He struggles up, shouting Anubis’ name, then Horus’. His voice swallowed by the wind.

And then he hears sobs. Seth struggles up, trips, forces himself up again, dragging his feet across the coarse sand. If he falls too many times, he knows he’s not likely to ever get up again. He shouts until his voice is raw, in the direction of the child’s cries. I’m coming, I’m on my way, half-terrified he’s only following a mirage, a projection leading him to nowhere as the children run out of time.

The screams get closer and closer. With a leap of his chest, he sees Horus, buffeted this way and that by the wind and waves, reaching out for him with sand-scraped arms.

“Uncle!” Seth catches him up in his arms, clutching his small body tightly. “Where are we? Someone grabbed me and everything got dark, and then I was alone for so long-”

Seth feels his stomach twist, desperately wishing he could wake up and tear apart the fucker who hurt his boys with his bare fucking hands. But the sedatives won’t wear off anytime soon, not in Limbo.

As Horus presses his wet face against his shoulder, he continues bawling, great big baby sobs that Seth would have scolded him for being too old for, before. “Sweetheart, it’s a dream.” Seth tells Horus over and over. “This is just a dream, okay? We’re going to wake soon.” He can tell Horus doesn’t believe him, because how can he? Instead, Seth settles for rocking him gently in the sand. Stroking his short hair, drying his cheeks.

Gradually, Horus’ sobs subside to hiccups, and Seth is able to ask a question.

“Horus, where’s Anubis? Have you seen him?” Horus shakes his head, and the bottom of Seth’s stomach drops. He wants to scream, the terror in his heart multiplying tenfold because where in this vast emptiness that might very well be eternity could his son be?

But Horus needs him. So Seth rams his terror and anguish and rage into a ball, holds it in his heart. Seth clings to Horus tightly, soothing him, rubbing his back as Horus looks up at him with red eyes, his cheeks stained with tears.

“I thought I would forget you.” Horus whispers. Seth’s face crumples. He kisses Horus’ forehead as Horus winds his arms around his neck, and Seth holds onto him just as tightly, rubbing his back until his breaths calm. the one solid point in all the shifting sand. Before them, the empty desert stretches before them.

“We’re going to have to find Anubis.” Seth says. “Stay with me, Horus.” Horus nods as Seth picks him up, and Seth watches them trudge through the sand. His hourglass gripped tightly in his hand, his cheeks wind-burned up to his ankles in sand.

He stares out at the vast eternity unfolding around him in every direction, crouching down, sinking his hands into the sand and letting it pass through his fingers, the skeletons of ancient marine creatures that probably never existed nicking his flesh along with bits of quartz. Digging deeeper and deeper, sand pouring out of him, flowing everywhere, but he can’t find it and uproot it.

Vines wrap around his limbs, his throat. Seth tries to move his limbs, but can’t. Osiris cold hands slide up his waist as he murmurs into his ear. “Why do you keep struggling? You know you’ll never find it.” Osiris kisses his jawbone, and Seth shivers in revulsion. “Just like you didn’t find Anubis in time.”

At the mention of Anubis, Seth’s breath quickens, and his eyes sting.

“What kind of fucking father pays for a hitman to poison his own son and nephew?” Seth spits out. Then his face is being wrenched to the side, and Seth flinches when he sees the blood pouring out of Osiris’ throat.

“You’re the only one who can answer that, Seth,” Osiris murmurs. “After all, it’s your fault all this came to be.”

“Uncle!” Seth’s attention snaps back to the sound of that young voice. His heart pounds as he begins to struggle, choking on the thorns clogging his throat. Osiris sneers at him as the vines dig deeper into Seth’s limbs. And then Seth hears the strains of Non, je ne regrette rien echo around the desert.

And then the desert is tipping over. The sand spilling out into the sky, Osiris tries to drag Seth with him under the dunes, but Seth somehow manages to scramble free. The world emptying itself out in a whirlpool of sand and Seth is falling, falling -

“Uncle, you’re awake.” Warm hands on his face. Seth opens his wet eyes. He can feel the needle sliding out of his wrist, Horus’ arms around him, cradling him. Probably he had shaken or tipped him so he would wake. He looks around him, disoriented, remembering that he had returned to his building. With a start, he looks up to find Anubis watching them. Anubis had insisted on following him back to his hotel room. Seth had been too tired to accept his offer of dinner, but as he’d fallen asleep he had been painfully aware that this was the first time in years that Anubis had willingly slept under the same roof as him.

He blinks, flushes in humiliation when his fingers come away from his cheeks wet, then struggles up to reach for the hourglass on the table beside him. Horus is too fucking close, and Seth flushes, pushing Horus away and glaring at him. “What are you doing here? I told you to stay with your Mom!” Horus just blinks at him with those damned, guileless eyes.

“Mom’s at a private meeting with Ra to decide what to do with Fenu. She told me to check up on you.” Seth bristles. Horus continues. “She’s - she’s managing, as well as she can. She’s also worried about you.” Seth is silent. The bruised side of his face aches, and his throat feels like it’s clogged with thorns.

He looks away from Horus. “I’m surprised you’re still here.” Seth addresses this to Anubis. “Didn’t you say you have a job lined up after this one?”

“I have spare time,” Anubis says simply. His gaze drifts down to where Horus’ hand is still on Seth’s shoulder, stroking soothing circles around the back of his neck that he hadn’t even noticed had already unloosened the taut, strained muscles. Too close, too intimate, too wrong. Seth swallows, torn between leaning into the comfort of Horus’ warmth and wrenching himself away. Before he can decide, Anubis is the one to turn aside towards the door.

“I’ll leave you to speak freely in private.” Anubis says abruptly. Seth’s jaw works and his hands quiver in Horus, longing to reach for his son but Anubis holds himself out of arms’ reach, even as his gaze rests on his and Horus’ joined hands. “Call me if you need anything.” A glance back at Seth, and Anubis is gone.

Horus wastes no time gathering Seth up in his lap after Anubis leaves. Seth tries to shove him away, because this is wrong. He should be the one comforting Horus, not the other way around. But exhaustion has him unable to fight as Horus tucks his face against his shoulder, letting him rest.

It is a long, carefully measured moment before Horus decides to break the silence.

“What were you trying to do?” Horus asks Seth quietly. Seth tenses in his arms. He tries to pull away, but Horus’ arm hooks around his waist, the other cradling the back of his head, leaving Seth no room for escape. Horus passes a hand through his hair, sighs against his forehead.

“Why relieve that particular memory?” Horus asks again. Firm and resolute and Seth knows he has no intention of letting Seth go if he doesn’t answer. Just like Seth has no intention of answering.

“Are you trying to see what you could have done differently?” Osiris’ voice snakes into his ear. Seth shivers, trying to hide it but Horus catches it. He strokes Seth’s hair, his lips pressed against the top of his head. Just like Seth used to do for him when he was a child, and Seth is too worn down and wrung-out not to give into this bastion of comfort. The last one he knows.

He has peace for several blessed seconds before Horus speaks again. “Osiris did something to you, didn’t he?” he asks, carefully, quietly. Seth jerks, and Horus grasps his shoulders, effectively stopping him from getting away. “That projection…. It’s not just guilt. There’s something else behind its existence.”

“My fertile desert.” Seth, screaming. Desperately trying to wake up but he can’t as Osiris smiles down at him. In his cupped palms, Seth can see a shining black seed.

Seth’s skin crawls. He shoves at Horus, looking away from his worried gaze. The shame sits in his throat, thick and painful. Moreso when he feels Horus brush his fingers against his wet cheek.

“Sometimes I wonder if you see me. If you can really see that I’m here, and I’m not going to leave you.” Horus says quietly. The emotion in his voice makes Seth tremble, but he refuses to look up. He should be the one comforting Horus, not the other way around. He should have been the one to protect him, to keep him safe -

“Uncle, you know me. Why can’t you trust me with your pain?” Horus’ voice cracks. He sounds so lost, so young, just like the little boy he had been. Seth can’t stand it. This time, it’s Seth who tugs Horus’ face down towards his, looking right into his blue eyes. It’s Seth who initiates the kiss, full of anguish and hunger. Horus kisses him back, and Seth can taste the promise he’s making, one he craves as much as he desperately doesn’t want to hear it.

Horus’ swift, clever fingers shuck Seth’s suit jacket off, along with the rest of his clothing. Seth barely notices himself tugging off Horus’ clothes, so lost in Horus’ gentle touch, the heat of his body. When they’re finally naked, Horus immediately covers Seth’s body with his own, hands on his wrists. A hot mouth trailing over Seth’s neck and Seth shivers. Suddenly angry with how gentle Horus is being.

Quick as a snake, he jerks his head down and bites over Horus’ jugular, and Horus yelps in surprise. Staring at Seth in surprise, and Seth’s overtaken by the memory of Horus when he was very small. Seth trying extremely hard to contain his laughter when an experiment Anubis had talked him into doing involving mentos candies and cola had soaked him in sugary liquid.

Seth laughs. Nearly hysterical with it, and Horus’ eyes darken just enough that he feels a sudden sick swoop in his belly, remembering Osiris -

And then Horus is kissing him. No less gently but with teeth, now, and Seth banishes the memory of Osiris with Horus’ touch. Imagining vines crumbling and dying before they can reach him as he wraps his arms around Horus, brings him down so their bodies are pressed together so tightly there’s hardly any space left between them. Horus’ teeth digging into Seth’s pale skin, Seth giving as good as he got and when Horus’ fingers slowly, gently, reach between them to brush against his entrance, Seth shivers and throws his head back. Stifling rage, shame, and conscience as he whispers into Horus’ ear, heady and hungry.

“More.” Horus’ blue eyes are heavy with hunger. He does not need telling twice. Seth loses himself to biting kisses onto Horus’ mouth, his throat, his neck. Dimly he hears the sound of a bottle of lotion being opened. He jerks as the cool liquid touches his skin, but it warms quickly enough as Horus describes him with gentle pecks to his cheeks and his half-shut eyelids.

When the first finger breaches him, Seth damn near loses his mind. He clenches down, gasping, and Horus chuckles and opens him up with excruciating patience.

Seth loses time. Loses himself in Horus’ mouth, one hand sliding trails over his back, the other working him open with exquisite gentleness. Opening him up until Seth is gasping, his mouth wet, his cock dripping pre-cum against his belly, and as Horus finally, finally slides the thick, magnificent length of him in, and Seth groans. Low and coming from the very core of him as Horus pushes himself inside. Marking him deep.

All it takes is an embarrassingly few thrusts, and Seth is arching up against Horus. Horus’ palm pressed flat over Seth’s cock as he arches up against him. Coming so hard that he stops thinking completely, all thought and pain and fear and guilt blessedly wiped out in those short few moments.

The only other sensation that registers is Horus’ gasp as he follows Seth over the edge, and the searing heat of his spend all but hollows Seth out as he slumps against the bed.

They breathe in, out, their chests brushing against each other. Seth’s fingers twitch for his hourglass, but he has no energy to reach for it. And when Horus reaches for him again – damn the youth and their stamina – Seth allows his thoughts to slip away in Horus’ warmth. In his love.

The rest of the evening is lost to the heat and touch. The weight of Horus’ body, the softness of his mouth, the color of his blue, blue eyes so much like the open sky. Their whole world narrowed down to one shining point of closeness as Horus takes Seth, and Seth lets him.

In his ears, he can hear the distant roar of the ocean crashing into sand.

-------------

Seconds fold into each other. For a while there was nothing but a blazing blue sky above. Horus blinks, and then the sun is suddenly high above the sky.

Seth glances at him, bemused. “Are you going to let it set?” Horus doesn’t answer, but later, when he sees uncle’s steps dragging in the sand, he lets the sun dip down. Lets the moon smile her curved smile in the sky before beaming full and fat in a black sky dotted with stars, burning torches lighting their path in front of them, leading them to a massive temple just like in his mother’s history books. A towering structure of carved stone covered in hieroglyphs and gilded in gold.

The best part about it, Horus decides, is Seth’s smile of pride when he glances down at him. It had cut through the ever-present desperation, at least for a moment.

Horus makes an effort to keep track of time. The numbers on his watch wiggle and float when he stares at them, so instead he makes do with a notebook and a pencil. Every time he opens his eyes to see the sun beginning to rise, he marks a single black line on a creamy white page – similar to the empty palaces now dotting the once-empty desert like the crumbled ruins of a child’s sandcastles.

The pages fill up and up. Pyramids and temples dot the empty desert like the crumbled ruins of a child’s sandcastles. One day folds into one week, into one month, one year, one decade..Horus counts. He still lays his head down on Seth’s chest at night, still clings to him when the sky goes dark over yet another day, Seth’s hands moving over his face as if memorizing his features.

One century. Two. The sun rises, and sets. Seth trudges on, doggedly searching the vast, empty expanse of the desert for his son. The moon and stars come out. The faces of his mother and father blur and fade like photographs exposed too long to the sun. He barely remembers what Aunt Nephthys looks like anymore, and the only scrap of Anubis he can recall with ease is the white scarf tied around Seth’s throat.

Through it all, Horus holds onto Seth’s hand. Seth keeps asking questions, and Horus dutifully answers. But even as the words are carved into his memory the faces of his parents begin to fade. So do the names of his friends, everything to do with childhood.

Sometimes, Horus wakes up before Seth to find his uncle doubled over beside him, sobbing as he clung to Anubis’ white scarf, and he’d wished he could do anything, be anything to make his uncle’s pain stop.

Days fold into years. Seth doggedly trudges on, through anguish and increasing despair. His questioning becomes more fervent. Who is your mother? What does she look like? What does your father do? What was your last birthday like?

Horus’ answers blur and fold into each other like the days. He no longer makes pyramids and temples. He can still catch the remnants of his old creations when they’re at a high enough promontory, and Horus feels a distinct sense of embarrassment when he sees them. Seth, his red hair, his voice, his arms are the only constants in this world, apart from the endless beat of time.

The wind scrapes against his cheeks, and Horus wonders what it would be to fold himself into it, scouring the vastness of it with its invisible weight. And then Seth speaks, and Horus drops all thought of the wind to focus on his voice.

“When we get out of here, we’ll have a new birthday party for you.” Seth whispers. Seth had quizzed and quizzed Horus about his tenth birthday party, but no matter what he does, the memories of the party slip through Horus’ fingers. “One you can invite all your friends to. When we find Anubis and get out of here.” Seth’s voice cracks. “We’ve been here too long.”

Horus does not say he can’t even remember the names of his friends anymore. He just buries his face in Seth’s chest as Seth runs fingers through his hair, down the back of his neck.

The next morning, he has the sun come up in a riot of gold and red. Seth’s eyes brighten with wonder. A momentary flash of fire that Horus loves so much before the weary exhaustion dulls them again. But just before the familiar despair settles over him like a shroud, Seth gives Horus’ hand a squeeze, and a smile.

It’s enough. It’s always enough, as Horus squeezes back, his hand tucked into his uncle’s as the world stretches out before them.

---

Horus stays. Though he doesn’t say it out loud, Horus knows Seth is too afraid to sleep by himself. So he curls up around Seth, and Seth lets him. Too tired to argue, to protest or fight as Horus tugs his head to rest against his chest, holding him and keeping him warm.

Seth falls asleep, his head pillowed on Horus’ chest. Horus drifts off intermittently, but he’s too keyed up to sleep. So Horus calls his mother, nearly sighing in relief when she picks up after the second ring. Isis is exhausted but her old steel is back as she speaks about Fenu. She and Ra had decided that the best punishment was no punishment – from them. After she had determined that he held no knowledge useful to her enemies, Ra had thrown him to the curbside of a city owned by a rival corporation he had undertaken numerous jobs against on the ENNEAD’s behest. And that was that.

“How is Seth?” Isis asks. The concern threaded tightly in her voice has Horus’ chest thumping with hope, for the first time in years. “Anubis is with me. He told me Seth insisted on using the PASIV. Did anything happen?”

“Nothing. I woke him up on time. He’s asleep now. Normal sleep.” Horus says, brushing a hand against Seth’s back when he stirs. Seth settles almost immediately after, his soft hair tickling the bottom of Horus’ chin, and Horus smiles as he winds a bright red strand between his fingers.

“Are you with him?” Horus is silent as he holds Seth against his chest. Isis sighs, long, drawn out, resigned.

“I’ll get some rest. You do the same.” A pause. “Tomorrow, I’ll be having a little chat with Nepthys. Stay with Seth – he needs someone to keep an eye on him.”

Instead of acquiescing as he always does, Horus decides to ask a question. “Mom, what about you? Are you okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Isis asks with a curtness that painfully reminds Horus of Seth. Horus stifles the ache in his chest that flares at how his loved ones hid their pain from him in almost the same way.

“All right, Mom.” Horus says. A click, and Isis hangs up. Horus settles in beside Seth, and the sound of his breathing lulls him to sleep.

He wakes before Seth. In the faint light of the morning glowing through the window, Seth’s hair looks like fiery silk, and the peace on his face makes Horus’ breath catch. He looks at Seth, savoring the rare unguarded peace on his face. Then extricating himself carefully, he gets up to make breakfast.

He gets dressed, then leans down to brush a kiss against Seth’s forehead, remembering Seth doing the same gesture of affection for him as a child. When he heads down the loft, however, to his surprise Anubis is already there.

Anubis looks up at Horus on the staircase, and Horus raises his eyebrows when Anubis’ gaze lingers on the red marks Seth had left on his neck. His expression doesn’t change, neither does he look particularly shocked.

“How is he?” Anubis asks without further preamble. It’s petty and childish, but Horus shoulder-checks him on his way to the kitchen.

“He’s fine for now,” Horus says curtly. There isn’t much in the refrigerator – Seth preferred to eat take out, the rare times he ate at all. But Horus pulls out fresh fruit he’d purchased and set down on the counter before heading to Seth’s loft, reaches for a knife and begins to peel and slice, arranging them on a plate. Anubis watches him by the doorway, arms crossed. Horus wishes he could tell him to go away, but -

Seth will be so happy, if his son is here. Horus’ throat feels too hot and painful. He swallows it down, just as Anubis speaks.

“You’re lovers, aren’t you?” Horus’ knife slices into an apple with quite a bit more force than necessary. Anubis continues with his customary bluntness. “I think everyone knows about what’s going on between the two of you. Even Isis, though I think she’s still in a fair bit of denial when I spoke to her last night.” At the mention of his mother – and the conversation that must have entailed – Horus finds himself speaking.

“I don’t see how my relationship with Uncle should concern you. It’s not as if you’ve ever acknowledged him as your father in all the time we’ve been working together.” Anubis gives him a calm stare.

“Because he’s not,” Anubis says. “Mother told me. Osiris is my real father.” That has Horus pause, his world spinning as he sets the knife down and turns so he can look Anubis in the face.

“What did you just say?” Anubis’ expression doesn’t change. No anguish, no undercurrent of emotion at all as he speaks.

“Mother had an affair with your father shortly after her marriage to Seth. I was conceived, and they stopped. I believe Isis already had her suspicions, which was why she insisted on moving away from Heliopolis.” Horus’ mind whirls, Nepthys’ absences and her long hours in the laboratory suddenly clicking and making sense. “Shortly after Fenu attacked us, Seth found out about the truth. I believe Sekhmet was the one who told him.” Anubis’ gaze is heavy on Horus’.

“From what I’ve put together through the years, you witnessed the outcome of that. Seth murdered Osiris, and went on the run.” Horus’ hand shoots out and Anubis grunts as his fingers close over his throat.

“Shut the fuck up.” Horus hisses as he digs his fingers in. Not enough to damage his windpipe or leave marks, for Seth’s sake, even as a long-buried recollection of sticky red blood screams in his memories. “Stop talking when you know nothing about whatever it is you’re saying.” Anubis’ gaze sharpens.

“You’re implying Isis doesn’t know the whole story.” Memories of Seth swimming out into the vast ocean of Limbo, screaming as he dragged Anubis’ prone body out of the waves burn in Horus’ mind. “What are you hiding to protect Seth?” Horus glares at Anubis, his fingers squeezing a fraction tighter, then loosening.

“You have no right to ask about the past when you refuse to acknowledge him as your father.” Horus says. He’s not sure, but Anubis almost seems hurt.

“I have my reasons for that, just as you have your own for refusing to tell your mother the truth about whatever it is that happened between Seth and Osiris.” Anubis says flatly, his breathing labored from the pressure of Horus’ hand. “That doesn’t mean I’m not concerned for Seth’s safety,” Horus narrows his eyes.

“So now you claim you care for Uncle, after ensuring he thinks you’ve forgotten about him in every way possible?” Anubis is silent. His eyes are like empty, pitch-black pits. Not unlike Seth’s after a nightmare, or when he’s so far gone in his mind that Horus is terrified he won’t be able to bring him back to reality.

“You know why I became a forger?” Anubis suddenly asks. He pries Horus’ hand away from his throat, pushing him back. “Because I know best how it is to have no identity of my own.”

“The Anubis he raised no longer exists, but he still wishes he does. And everyone – Mother, Seth, even you and Isis - thinks I can take his identity on so easily.” There’s pain, there. “I would have thought you of all people would know how difficult it is, for everyone to expect you to be the same when you’re not.”

Horus’ nails dig into his palms. He remembers the look on Isis’ face whenever she would bring up a childhood event he just cannot remember, no matter how hard he tries. The pictures in the photo album that only stir the faintest of memories. How nothing had felt real, the first few years after Limbo. Nothing except Seth.

Seth was the only one who had understood, because how could they not understand each other after the millennia they’d spent together? But while Horus had the comfort of his presence while trapped in Limbo, Anubis never did.

After a few moments that felt stretched to eternity, Horus speaks.

“He’s your father. You’re his son, even if you think it’s someone else he wants.” The words burn, and again he feels the impulse to lie, to keep Seth all to himself, to become his whole world again like in Limbo.

He shakes the urge off. He is not Osiris. A frown appears between Anubis’ smooth brow.

“He wants his old son back. Not necessarily me.” Anubis says diffidently. But there’s a crack in his voice, and Horus sees his chance, presses on.

“You think there really is a difference, to him?” Horus snaps. “I spent centuries with him in Limbo, and that whole time we spent down there, he spent desperately searching for you.” Anubis is quiet. Horus lets out a sigh, turns back towards the chopping board to finish preparing Seth’s breakfast.

“Just try. That’s all I’m asking. Just try.” Horus says. It feels like dragging broken glass out of his throat, but he speaks anyway. “It’s the best way you can help him.” He expects Anubis to refuse with his customary coldness, but to his surprise Anubis is quiet.

“I’ll speak to him.” Anubis says. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to give him what he wants, or needs. But I’ll try.”

Horus nods. It’s enough. Even the crawling jealousy in his gut is worth it, when they hear sounds from the loft and Horus hears the familiar sound of Seth’s footsteps as he enters the kitchen. Seth doesn’t look shocked to see his son, greeting him with painfully stilted hope, and Horus wonders how much of their conversation he’s heard.

Anubis stays for a few more hours. Though his every cell rebels against the very idea, Horus keeps himself busy with the mountain of dishes in the kitchen to give the two some privacy. But he checks on Seth constantly, and to his relief Seth looks more and more relaxed. To Horus’ surprise, so does Anubis, and Horus can almost see a glimmer of the eager child that Seth refuses to let go of.

Horus does get Seth to himself for a brief while. He enters the living room to announce that lunch is ready, sees Seth is alone on the couch– Anubis must have gone to the bathroom. Seth has the hourglass out, staring at it intently as the sand swirls to the bottom bulb.

Horus lays a gentle hand on Seth’s shoulder, expecting it to be pushed away. To his surprise, Seth gives his wrist a squeeze. Stowing the hourglass away and looking up as Horus laces their fingers together.

“You all right?” Horus asks. The look Seth gives him is complicated – like he’s trying hard to keep himself from feeling hope, and Horus’ heart thumps painfully in his ribs at the sight of it. He lets out an unsteady breath.

“Yeah,” Seth says, his voice cracking slightly. “I think so.” He looks like he’s about to say more, but then they hear footsteps. Horus lets go of Seth, and his eyes meet Anubis’, watching them with a look that was not unlike wistfulness.

It’s early afternoon when Anubis excuses himself. “I’m meeting with a solo client,” he says. Predictably, Seth’s eyes widen with alarm. But he settles back after.

“You probably won’t need my input, but I’ll be willing to share my insights if you want.” he says. Anubis hesitates.

“I was actually intending to discuss it with you. It’s a straightforward enough job, but I’d like to discuss it with you in case there are variables I haven’t considered.” For a moment, Horus is almost worried Seth would be too overwhelmed to reply. His mouth works a little before he manages to speak.

“I’d love to,” he says hoarsely. Anubis smiles, a little, and Horus aches to see the happiness on Seth’s face.

When Anubis has left, Seth takes out the hourglass again. This time, Horus wraps his arms around him, letting Seth lean back against him as they watch the sand drain away. He presses his lips against Seth’s throat, feeling the echo of his trembling breaths as he speaks, his fingers wiping away the damp rivulets flowing down his cheeks.

“We are so fucked up.” Seth exhales. The sand in the hourglass stays at the bottom, and he stuffs it roughly in his pocket before turning in Horus’ arms. Horus holding Seth as he trembles, his mouth meeting Horus’, tasting of salt and fragile joy.

---

They find Anubis during the fifth century. Horus isn’t sure anymore. The notebook has been long-abandoned to the shifting sands.

Anubis is lying on the edge of the shore, dangerously close to being swallowed by the waves. His expression is glazed. Seth shouts as he lets go of Horus’ hand, scrambles towards his son.

For one awful moment, Horus wishes that the waves would carry Anubis away, forever. And then he scrambles after his uncle, helping him drag Anubis to dry land.

“Anubis,” Seth gasps. “It’s me, it’s Dad. We’re going home. Come on, please-” Anubis doesn’t answer, but he blinks.

“Home?” Seth’s face breaks into a relieved smile.

“I want to go home.” Seth nods.

“Okay. Okay, we’re going home. All of us, we’re finally going back.” He holds out his hand for Horus, and suddenly, they’re at the edges of a sandstone cliff.

Horus stays still. Seth’s gaze is bright with relief, expectant, and Horus is too old to weep but all he wants to do is howl, to scream, to make a scene and stay here, keep Seth from leaving. He wants to stay here, with Seth, the two of them alone in such a huge world.

“Horus,” Seth’s voice rasps, bringing him to the present. “Don’t lose yourself.” He takes Horus’ hand, now shrunken small again, tugs him down so he’s on his knees beside Anubis.

“We’re going home.” He murmurs against the top of Horus’ head. Horus swallows a breath, buries his face against his throat, his fingers curled tight in Seth’s hair. The world falls away around them, and at the end of the world all Horus can see is the light of the blood-red sun glinting off of Seth’s beautiful hair.

When he wakes, it’s to familiar crimson-brown eyes snapping open. But the world is murkier, heavier. His limbs too heavy as Seth pushes himself up. But he doesn’t notice Horus’ heavy arms reaching for him, his voice hoarse around the name of his son as he scrambles towards him.

“Anubis!” Horus turns his heavy head towards the boy lying beside him. His cousin he hasn’t seen in years. Anubis’ eyes are already open. He doesn’t move when Seth rips the IV line off his wrist.

Anubis continue staring blankly ahead of him as Seth sinks to his side. Horus breathes, watching Seth stroking his cousin’s face with a burning hurt rage curdling his gut, listening to Seth calling out Anubis’ name in an increasingly strained voice. And then he hears other voices. Unfamiliar ones. Horus looks up towards the face of an unknown woman who reaches out for him in desperation.

“Horus!” Her arms are warm, but Horus jerks away, wanting Seth. But he’s too small, and the woman holds him in place. The equally unfamiliar blonde woman beside her is sobbing.

“Horus… it’s me.” The woman’s clutching his shoulders. “It’s your mother.” Horus blinks. Faded warmth and laughter. Do you remember your parents? Tell me what you remember.

Seth’s frightened, anguished face. The same anguish and fear on this woman’s. And Horus doesn’t know her, doesn’t remember her. But he doesn’t want to make things worse.

Seth breaks the impasse.

“We need to get the kids to the hospital,” he says, lifting Anubis – still blank-faced and empty-eyed - into his arms. The rest of the memory is a blur, but Horus can remember reaching for Seth in mute longing. Longing that goes unanswered, as Seth rushing farther and farther away from him, Anubis in his arms.

----

Seth forces himself to remember every detail of memory. His own version of self-flagellation as he slides the IV line into his wrist and sinks deep into the dark place where reality melded into memory into dream.

He sees himself in the hospital. Two little boys in two little beds, his dream-self’s face buried in his hands, Nepthys openly breaking down as the white-coated doctor whose face Seth couldn’t even remember tells them about their diagnosis. Anubis’ brain had been damaged by the Somnacin to the point that he’d developed retrograde amnesia. All the information has been wiped out, including basic motor skills and language. But he might still recover, the doctor had assured them. With extensive rehabilitation and modern medicine, anything was possible.

Horus’ mind is similarly damaged, as proclaimed by the doctors. But with results that bewilder the doctors, and the adults. He can barely remember his parents, or even Nepthys. The only person whose face and name he remembers, as he says so, is Seth’s.

Seth watches as the four of them have an explosive fight, right there in the hospital corridor. Mostly between Seth and Isis, with Osiris trying to calm his wife before she beat the living shit out of Seth, and Nepthys sobbing in the background. Isis screamed and screamed about how careless Seth is with his so-called clients, how she had known his and Osiris’ experimentation would do nobody any good, now Horus and Anubis were paying for every fucking thing she warned Seth and her husband would happen-

“Isis, that’s enough-” Isis wrenched her hand away from Osiris to slap Seth. Seth hadn’t moved away. Before Isis could hit Seth with her outstretched hand, her face had crumpled and she had fallen apart, her sobs muffled into her hands.

Seth hadn’t remembered much else of what came after. Nepthys had reached out for him, but he had flinched away from her, too ashamed and wracked with guilt to look her in the eye. Then he’d stumbled into Anubis’ hospital room and had sunk to his knees beside his hospital bed, reaching for his pale, too-still hand. Reassurances tumbling from his lips, as if that would even do any good, as if he wasn’t beyond too late -

“No, it didn’t do Anubis much good, did it?” The sickening scent of flowers, the sensation of vineswrapping around his limbs. Seth swallows back a cry as thorns slice into his skin. “Horus, even less.” The thorns jerk Seth’s chin up, towards Horus. Horus padding over to Seth, too young for the pain and worry on his small face.

“You’re tired. You should sleep,” Horus says. Seth watches himself giving him a tired blink.

“You think I haven’t had enough fucking sleep for the next century?” Past Seth asks wryly. Seth felt his chest twist as his past self reached out, and Horus let himself be pulled into his arms. As Seth relaxed at the familiar weight and feel of him, even shrunk small again.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Seth heard himself murmur into Horus’ hair. “Haven’t you had centuries to be sick of seeing only my face? What if your mother misses you? She’s worried sick, you should be staying with her.” Horus had been quiet.

“I’m worried about you,” he falls quiet before continuing. “I’m not used to having her around.” He confesses, and Seth’s heart breaks as his past self pulled back to look at Horus’ big, blue eyes.

“How are you?” Seth asks. Horus shrugs, then burrows closer to Seth.

“Everything’s so strange.” He says into Seth’s shoulder. “So loud, and so many people. I wish..” he trails off. Seth brushes a kiss against the top of his head.

“Welcome back to the real world, little pigeon.” Seth heard himself say. “We all have to get used to being back in a place where everything’s out of our control.” To his shame, he heard his voice crack, and Horus let out a quiet sigh.

“You need to sleep.” Horus says firmly. Already the one determined to take care of Seth, when it should have been the other way around. “Come on.” His small hand tugged Seth towards the couch, but Seth’s eyes are watering too much to see, to remember what had come after. Because Osiris is jerking his head up so he can only see him and no one else.

The world dissolves into sand. Seth manages to yank himself free as the desert sand threatens to swallow both him and Osiris whole, but a vine wraps tightly, too tightly around his ankle, dragging him down with an enraged scream, his fingers scrabbling on the sand.

Osiris’ weight is heavy on his body, his purr against Seth’s ear. “I gave you this sand. Do you truly think you can turn it against me?” Seth bares his teeth, his hands searching, searching as the sand slips between his fingers.

Above, Seth can hear the strains of Non, je ne regrette rien playing as the timer runs out. Thorns wrap tighter and tighter around his throat, then the world lurches out from under him, and he falls -

Seth pushes himself up, panting. The warehouse is blessedly empty, and Seth pushes his sweaty hair out of his face, tugging out the IV line from his wrist. His hands are still shaking as he packs up the PASIV and heads out.

He arrives at his building to find Horus on his way out – probably to look for him at the warehouse. Nepthys had barricaded herself in their old home in Heliopolis when Isis gave her a call, and Isis took time off of work for a few days to corner her into having a discussion. Horus had accompanied her, at Seth’s insistence, but he hadn’t been completely alone – Anubis had stopped by with dinner the other evening. Their talk about his upcoming job was still as stilted as their former conversations, but as Anubis had relaxed into Seth’s company, Seth had allowed himself to remember the days of Anubis’ childhood. When Seth had taught his son to shoot a gun and hunt, when he used to guide him through his lessons and answering his homework.

You are my son, Seth thought as Anubis leaned forwards to inspect the maze he had drawn as a suggestion for his next job, his black eyes animated with interest. You are my son, and nothing Osiris can say can change that.

“Uncle?” Horus nearly reaches out for him before remembering himself. His hand settles on Seth’s shoulder instead, and Seth hates himself for how he relaxes at its weight. He has a sudden vivid memory of Horus’ small hands on his face, his little body sheltered in Seth’s arms, and for a moment Seth feels sick with guilt.

He jerks his head towards his flat. Horus follows him.

“How did the conversation with Nepthys go?” he asks tersely. Horus takes care answering.

“… Not very productive. Aunt Nepthys couldn’t give Mom more information than she already knew.” Horus says. “They discussed other matters, though. I think Mom’s going to want to talk about them with you tomorrow.” There’s something more to it. Horus’ damned expressive eyes can’t hide the worry in them as he looks at Seth.

“If we have time,” Seth exhales. Something tells him he’s not going to be looking forwards to that conversation, at all. “Ra sent me a message earlier. She wants to make a move on Athanasiou before he makes a move on her.” Horus reaches out, cups Seth’s hands in his. Before Seth can pull it away, Horus has turned over his wrist, pausing at the fresh bandage Seth had placed on the wound.

“Uncle…” Horus’ voice trembles as he strokes a line down the back of Seth’s hand. Seth jerks his hand away, but Horus closes his fingers around his wrist and he’s trapped.

“I want to help you-” Seth shakes his head, his heart pounding in his throat, trying and failing to look away from Horus’ soft blue gaze.

“I’ve told you a thousand times. You can’t help me.” Seth’s voice cracks. As simple as that, Horus is kissing him with all the pent-up hunger of the past few days. Seth is responding with his own, kissing Horus so fiercely that he barely feels it when Horus presses him against the wall, the palm of his hand cushioning the back of his head.

Seth burns as Horus slides his fingers under his shirt. He grasps onto Horus’ stupidly wide shoulders, clinging to him embarrassingly tightly as Horus does his damnedest to eat him alive. He could stay here forever, Seth knows. The fire of Horus’ beautiful eyes, the gentleness of his touch waking Seth all the way up, until the echoes of Osiris’ thorns fade. He could stay here, warm himself with the fire of Horus’ devotion, his love until Seth’s consumed it whole and there’s nothing left.

Seth breaks the kiss. He pushes Horus away, flinching back from Horus when he reaches for him, from the worried frown between his brows, the love in his eyes -

“Don’t fucking touch me,” Seth whispers. Horus looks desperately worried, and beneath that Seth can see the snatches of the child he used to be. The loneliness on his small face as he woke up to a world he no longer knew, clinging to Seth as his remaining tether to the waking world.

When he was little, Seth could make up his small hurts to him, so easily. With time for playing, with love. There’s no making up for this now. Not for what Seth has done to him and their family.

Seth’s throat works as he speaks. “I’m going to bed. Don’t follow me.” He pushes away from the wall, jerking away when Horus reaches for him with wide, hurt eyes. Horus freezes, and Seth takes advantage by shouldering past him to the loft, locking the door behind him.

He falls into bed without undressing, curling up into a pathetic ball and closing his eyes. Too-keyed up to sleep, but the nightmare of a lost young child haunts him all the way to damn.

-----------

Horus had thought, naively, that once the truth was out, things would get better.

He was wrong. Seth spirals, further and further and Horus is unable to stop it.

He avoids both Horus and Isis by going on jobs with Anubis, even as his sister in frustration tries to chase him down. Horus can’t even bring himself to feel any sort of jealousy, not when the first thing Anubis does after a job with Seth is to meet with Horus, an uncharacteristically concerned furrow between his brows.

“He had the composition of Somnacin changed for his separate use,” Anubis says. “The new formula does seem to give him better control over his dreamscape, and those of us using the regular dosage are unaffected. But the dosage is so high and the Somnacin so potent that it’s difficult to wake him up.” Horus exhales.

“Has he spoken to you about anything?” Anubis shakes his head.

“When I try to invite him to dinner, or just to talk - he refuses.” Horus stares at him, alarmed. If Seth’s mental state was so bad that he was withdrawing from Anubis -

“What should I do?” Anubis, usually so self-possessed to the point of indifference, now seems at a loss. Horus says the only thing he knows will help.

“Don’t give up on him,” Horus says quietly. He expects Anubis to shrug things off, but to his surprise Anubis nods, and the worry doesn’t fade from his face.

Isis is worried, too, with just as much luck as Horus in trying to get a word edgewise out of Seth. Her lips purse when Horus tells her about his continuing inability to corner Seth, and while the hint of relief in her expression is undeniable, so is her growing worry.

But now that Horus can actually speak about Seth to her without her shutting him down, he has the opportunity to bring up a suspicion that has been gnawing at him for a very long time.

“Inception,” Horus says, carefully watching Isis’ expression. “Do you really think it’s possible?” Isis’ mouth goes thin.

“Osiris and I had extensively discussed it in theory, but found the concept too dangerous to experiment with, given our limited resources.” Isis says. “Ideas – they’re like cancers. Once an idea takes root, it can fester in a person’s mind. It can even spread to others, until swathes of the population are sharing madness amongst themselves, and the idea grows and grows until it consumers them whole. Her fingers tense around her mug of tea, but she doesn’t take a sip. Horus’ stomach feels like lead.

“It would explain everything, if it were possible.” Horus says. “I believe Osiris planted something in his mind. Whatever it was, it’s had ten years to infect Seth’s every thought,.” Both dreaming and waking.

Isis lets out a breath of frustration. “Good luck trying to get him to talk about what’s going on.” She’s silent for a few moments.

“We’ll have to identify the root of the idea,” Isis says at length. “If our assumptions are correct, Osiris created it. We can see the physical manifestations of it in the dream levels, but that’s just one aspect of what that idea must be.”

“You and Anubis work on Seth, get him to tell you what’s wrong. I’ll run some experiments.” Horus looks at his mother, slightly alarmed.

“Experiments?” Isis arches an eyebrow at him, then smiles.

“Fenu is still alive, as far as I’ve checked.” Isis says. Her smile makes her look uncannily like Seth. Horus finds himself giving her an answering smile.

But getting Seth to talk is easier said than done, when Seth keeps avoiding him. And then Anubis suddenly rings them up to tell them about a job gone belly-up.

Anubis has already taken Seth to the warehouse when Horus and Isis arrive. He’s still hooked up to the PASIV, and anguish lances through Horus’ chest when he sees how thin and pale Seth has gotten, the purple bruises under his eyes. Isis’ hand flies to his pulse.

"What happened?" Horus demands.

“It was a successful extraction, which buys us some time,” Anubis answers. “We got the information we needed, but Osiris took him before he could wake. He’s using his own blend of Somnacin, so not even the kick woke him up.”

“How many levels deep were you in?” Isis asks. Anubis gives her a helpless glance that reminds Horus strongly of that night he brought a kitten in for Seth to adopt. Their last night together as a family, even though none of them knew it yet.

“Three. The mark had received training to resist extractors.” Horus is already unwinding the IV line connecting to the PASIV. Anubis’ expression is grim as he gives out more details. “Osiris shot him in the final level, just before we completed extraction. He died before the timer ran out, ended up in Limbo. We couldn’t risk staying beyond the timer, not with the mark’s security detail present.” Anubis’ voice breaks. “He was protecting me.”

Isis goes very pale. “How long has he been there?” Horus asks, horrified. 

“An hour since we got off the flight and got back here.” Anubis says. His voice shakes. “Multiplied with how many years in Limbo…” He trails off, and Horus feels numb. He attaches a needle to the end of the PASIV.

“I’m going in,” he says, getting ready to slide the needle in. To his surprise, Isis starts unwinding the other IV line, followed by Anubis.

“So will I.” Isis says firmly. As Horus slides the needle into his wrist, the last thing he sees is Seth’s still face, turned towards him. His eyelids are already closing, but Horus still manages to muster an unspoken promise.

We are going to save you.

----

Seth wanders through the corridor of his memories.

Seth watches despondently as his family tries to function as normally as possible. At least, what could pass for normal, now. As Anubis has to re-learn every basic function, from walking to talking to eating by himself.

The police investigation yields nothing. The CCTVs in the house had been systematically destroyed, all evidence wiped away – the work of consummate professionals deliberately sending a message.

Seth watches Anubis’ blank expression, his body drowning in the hospital bed, the sluggishly slow beat of the heart monitor as Nepthys wept by their son’s bedside. He watches Isis blame him for everything. Screaming at him at the top of her lungs in the hospital corridor while Osiris tried and failed to calm her down.

He watches Horus watching them. The door to the hospital room he shared with Anubis open just a crack, and through it Seth can see his big blue eyes, his fingers gripping the edge of the lintel. As Osiris coaxes Isis outside for a breath of fresh air, Seth leans against the wall of the corridor in shaky legs, his face hidden in his hands. Only looking up at the soft footsteps, the small warm figure wrapping his arms around his middle, as Seth lowered his shaky hands to stroke his soft black hair.

As Seth watches, he sees himself lean down to whisper something into Horus’ ear. He can no longer remember what he said, or what Horus had mumbled in response, but he can remember the singular comfort of that moment. Comfort that had never been his to accept.

The corridors flow, shift like sand. Now Seth is watching as Anubis has to re-learn every basic function. How to speak, how to walk. After Nepthys completely shuts down and shuts herself up in her laboratory, Seth completely takes over Anubis’ rehabilitation. Cheering on every milestone, the first shaky steps that Anubis takes by himself, the first words he’s finally able to speak.

Osiris tries to discuss the project with him, about the progress he and Isis had made, (Isis still refuses to speak with him). Seth more often than not blows him off. He can’t even look at the PASIV without feeling sick. Osiris is increasingly frustrated and disappointed, but Seth finds himself not giving a shit about Osiris’ approval, for once in his life.

So Seth tends to Anubis, as his sister and his wife all drift away from him, and he has no energy to bring them back. He tends to his son, as his best friend looks at him with disappointed eyes.

He would be alone, if it weren’t for Horus. Seth’s breath catches in his throat as he watches Horus. Horus, who has lost interest in school, in his toys, in the games he used to play with his classmates - in everything to do with children his age, instead preferring to spend time with Seth. Tucked beside Seth when he teaches Anubis how to form words with his mouth again, assisting him when Anubis has to do his physical exercises. Curling up on his chest during the nights he can’t sleep, of if Seth couldn’t, until he eventually did.

Isis tries repeatedly to reach out to her son, to have him scampering close to her side like he used to. But Horus stares at his parents like they’re strangers on a street, refusing to budge from Seth’s side. He had been a biddable, obedient child before Limbo. Now there’s an impassive intractability to him, a steadfast unwavering devotion that worries Seth as much as he’s wretchedly grateful for it.

Seth watches the Horus in his memories, and more than anything else he wishes he could tell him to leave him. That he had pushed him away before he had made himself Horus’ whole world.

“I’m sorry,” In his memories, Seth is watching the rise and fall of Anubis’ chest. Terrified to look away, holding his breath with every soft lull in Anubis’ breathing. He’s not even sure who he’s apologizing to.

He remembers sand. The impossible made possible so simply, so quickly.

“What for?” Horus answers. Seth shifts, and Horus tugs lightly at the locks of his hair as they brush against his face.

“For this.” Seth’s mouth is dry as he speaks. “For everything you and Anubis went through because of me.” Horus blinks at him as he looks upm his eyes disconcertingly grave in his small, chubby face. Then he tucks himself closer, burying his face in Seth’s chest.

“Don’t be. I’m happy,” Horus says quietly. “You’re still with me.” Seth cracks the widest smile he’s felt on his face in months. He kisses the top of Horus’ head, settling him in as Anubis breathes softly in his sleep.

The atmosphere in the house is strained. Seth and Osiris had secured all the locks and the perimeter of the house, but Seth barely sleeps most nights. On top of caring for Anubis and Horus, he frequently walks through the house multiple times to make sure all the doors and windows are shut and bolted, brushing aside Osiris’ offer of a drink, of rest. Most nights found him by Anubis’ bedside, having drifted off to watch his son sleep.

Most mornings find Horus tucked under his arm, his big blue eyes open before his, watching him.

Isis makes it clear that she blames Seth for all of this. Seth agrees with her. But slowly, slowly things reach an equilibrium. Right up until their lives get violently overturned again.

They were in the hospital for Anubis’ rehab. Somehow, Isis had managed to guilt-trip Nepthys out of her laboratory into helping him out – even as Isis herself hadn’t spoken to him properly in months. Seth is both pissed and grateful, but wishes she hadn’t bothered. He and Nepthys had been doing their damnedest to avoid each other.

He and Nepthys sit beside Anubis in excruciating silence while waiting for the orthopedist. Anubis is looking between Seth and Nepthys, looking away when Seth catches his eye questioningly. Before Seth can gently corner Anubis into communicating, the door opens.

Instead of the doctor, Sekhmet comes in with her dark red wound of a smile.

“Glad to see I finally caught you,” she drawls. “I’ve been trying to contact you for ages. Lucky that I found you here.” Seth glares at her, irritated, giving the flustered secretary a dark scowl.

“Aren’t you supposed to safeguard doctor-patient confidentiality?” He snaps, and the secretary stammers in apology. Sekhmet grins at him.

“Don’t be mean.” Seth gives her an irritated scowl which softens when he turns to Anubis.

“I’ll be right back,” he tells his son. “Call me if you need anything.” he tells Nepthys. It doesn’t escape him that Nepthys’ face has turned milk-white. He lingers in concern, but Sekhmet’s sharp nails dig into his shoulder and he resolves to deal with the first problem at hand.

Seth wrenches his shoulder free from Sekhmet as they head to the deserted stairwell. He turns to her with a glare.

“Spit it out real quick,” he says flatly. “I’m busy. Go bother Osiris if you want updates about the PASIV, I’m on indefinite hiatus.” Sekhmet chuckles.

“I want to talk to you, not Osiris.” Seth raises an eyebrow.

“He’s walked back on our exclusive contract.” Sekhmet says. Seth frowns. He remembers Osiris mentioning it, saying it would be a bad deal to take even as Isis argued in favor of getting the damn tech out of their hands, but Seth had been so busy with Anubis that he’d barely paid attention to them fighting. Though personally, he was more inclined to agree with Isis.

“I heard. What do you expect me to do about it? Osiris is the one who finalizes our business deals.” Sekhmet’s smile is cold.

“You own the patent, am I correct?” Seth folds his arms against his chest.

“I co-own it with Isis,” Seth corrects her. “Osiris is our CFO.” Sekhmet makes an impatient gesture, leaning towards him uncomfortably close.

“Which means you can override Osiris’ decision-making.” Sekhmet practically breathes against his ear.

“You know this is already the best deal you can make. Especially with all the other unsavory types out there. As you know all too well.” Seth shoves her away, glaring.

“I’m not betraying Osiris like that, what the fuck.” Sekhmet cocks her head, considering.

“Even if he betrayed you first?” Seth rubs at his forehead with his fingers, itching to yell at her that he’s way too exhausted for this shit. Then Sekhmet’s next words send his already-teetering world crashing all around him.

“Even if your son is actually his?” For one horrible moment, Seth is frozen.

“What the fuck are you saying?” he hisses. Sekhmet’s eyes flash in glee as she opens her purse and takes out a sheaf of photos.

“It was one of the more sordid little things Thoth turned up about your family. I recommend you hire a couple of private investigators for your team, the research they can yield is very fruitful.” She hands him the photos. Seth takes them with shaking hands, every instinct of him screaming not to look even as he flips through them with trembling hands. At the clandestine photos taken of his wife and his best friend, clasped in each other’s arms.

At the very end of the stack is a folded printout of a series of text messages, from three years ago.

I’ve done a test.

And?

He’s yours. Not Seth’s. At the bottom of the message are the scanned results of a DNA test, proclaiming a full match.

The latest message is sent hours after Nepthys’ last message.

Don’t tell Seth.

There is no other response.

The click of heels on the floor. “Seth?” Nepthys takes one look at Seth’s face, at the photos in his trembling hands. The desperate hope that the messages and the photos and the fucking DNA test are fake dies in Seth’s chest as she crashes to her knees.

She grabs desperately for Seth’s sleeve, and Seth shoves her away, the world roaring in his ears. Sekhmet is speaking, but Seth is no longer listening.

Anubis is peeking out of the half-open door. Seth can’t bring himself to look at him, to look back as he tears down the corridor to the parking lot, his shaking hands barely able to fit the key into the door. Breaking god-knows how many traffic rules along the way, trucks swerving towards him but he’s only disappointed they don’t crash into him.

He’s still trembling as he pulls up to the garage with a shriek of the wheels on asphalt. Osiris is taking a call, but he slowly lowers his phone when he sees Seth glaring at him, every limb trembling, itching to tear him apart.

It remains one of Seth’s worst regrets, that he didn’t. His life would have been over, but it would have spared his family the worst that was to come.

“You fucking traitor,” Seth hisses, grabbing for Osiris’ collar. Osiris remains damnably calm.

“Perhaps we had better have this discussion inside.” Osiris says slowly. Only Seth remembering Isis, how she doesn’t deserve to have her unfaithful husband cheating on her with her brother’s wife broadcasted to the whole neighborhood has him agreeing to go back to the house he had shared with the snake that had been hiding in his wife’s sheets. To follow Osiris, wanting nothing more than to stab him in his broad back, to destroy him in every way Seth has been destroyed.

The front door closes behind them as they enter the house.

In every way that matters, Seth doesn’t come back out.

-------

Horus opens his eyes to sunlight, warm and familiar, falling on the intricate tiles covering the walls and floor, painting their surroundings with a soft, luminous light. He takes a step, and his foot sinks into a thick and equally intricate red carpet, his shoulder brushing against the leaves of a small potted palm in a clay pot and his fingers trailing on the arm of an old, worn couch. A place that still exists as a shell of its former self, but whose old warmth can now only be found in Seth’s memories. And Horus’ own.

“This is our old house.” Anubis speaks from behind him, his voice trembles, and Horus glances at Isis as she lays a hand on his cousin’s shoulder.

“These are our memories.” Isis says, her voice soft. “Our home.” And then Horus is seeing himself at an age even younger than he appears now, sitting on the floor by his mother’s legs, Anubis beside him as they answer their schoolwork on the carved coffeetable while his mother spoke to Uncle Seth. Uncle Seth distractedly replying, his fingers stained with ink as he made sketches and diagrams of buildings.

Horus blinks, his chest raw as Memory-Isis reached over the younger Horus’ shoulder to scan his homework. Nodding in approval and Horus watches his child-self’s face break into a toothy grin as Anubis ruffles his hair and Seth looks up from his work to give him a grin of approval.

Anubis wrenches his way from the tableau, pulls away from Isis’ touch, his footsteps muffled on the carpet as he walks around the room. His usual cold indifference is gone as he lifts up a photograph in its frame. Horus glances at it. The last photograph they had taken together as a family, which no longer existed in reality. Anubis scans each face in the photograph, and his painfully vulnerable expression reminds Horus so much of Seth, and so much of himself.

“We had adopted a kitten.” Anubis says, his voice tight, anguished as his fingers shake on the photograph. “What happened to it?” In his voice, Horus can hear the strain of trying to remember, and failing. Nothing but a black void between who he is and who he used to be. Isis reaches up to him again, her fingers closing over Anubis’ as Anubis meets her gaze with transparent desperation.

“Don’t get lost here, the two of you,” Isis says at length. She lowers her hand, turns towards Horus. “Remember-”

“It’s always easier to get trapped if you base a level off the real world.” Horus dutifully responds. He looks around him, at the painfully familiar comfort radiating all around him.

“Who created this place? Seth always used to come here.” Isis heads to the door to the corridor that Horus remembers leads to the laboratory.

“We did,” Isis says tightly. “I designed the layout, Seth and Osiris filled in the dream-layer. At that time, we already knew how to create impossible architectures, cities that could never exist in reality. It was Osiris’ challenge to us to recreate reality in a dream, in so much detail that we wouldn’t be able to tell whether or not we were awake.”

Horus feels a stone weight settle in his stomach at the implications of Isis’ words. “… That sounds dangerous.” He says, at the same time Anubis speaks. “He lost track of reality himself, didn’t he?”

Isis winces. “He made it sound like another component we needed to cover in our research. Nepthys and I originally conceived of the PASIV as a tool for trauma patients - the idea was to recreate key memories and work with them to achieve different outcomes within the dream. It was Osiris who capitalized on the PASIV’s uses in other industries, and Seth who insisted on developing its capabilities for extraction.” Isis’ fingers clench into a fist. “It was also Seth that Osiris insisted on training, more than me. His excuse was that Seth would be likelier to do fieldwork on possible jobs, but...” she trails off. Horus tentatively reaches for her.

“Mom?” he asks tentatively, and Isis shakes her head. When she glances at Horus and Anubis again, her eyes are implacable blue steel.

“Let’s go,” she finally says. “Be careful. Who knows what other monstrosities have been festering in Seth’s subconscious.” She turns the knob.

The door opens up to a deserted hospital corridor. Anubis gives a visible start when he recognizes it. Just the site of the light green walls and the white linoleum makes Horus queasy, and then they see the woman in a red suit, lounging against the door of the fire escape ahead of them.

“Sekhmet?” Isis snaps.

“Not the real one, don’t worry.” Sekhmet grins. Isis glares at her.

“Are you here to stop us?” Sekhmet chuckles.

“On the contrary, I’m here to show you around Seth’s head.” She pushes herself off of the door, her high heels clicking on the linoleum as she circles the three of them. “Tell you all about the shameful little things he can’t tell you and Anubis. Baby bird here has already witnessed most of his secrets, after all.” She flashes Horus a blood-red smile. Isis scowls at her.

“We’re here to get Seth out before his brain turns to mush,” Isis says flatly. “We don’t intend to dawdle. He can keep his secrets to himself, for all I care.” Sekhmet laughs, and it sounds like a low growl.

“Is it because you don’t know, or because you already do?” Sekhmet asks. Before Isis can answer, the ground rumbles. Horus is barely able to keep his balance, and then he hears the sound of concrete rumbling, looks behind and sees vines crawling through the doorway they’ve just gone through. Smashing through the linoleum, crawling all over the walls. Sekhmet opens the fire escape.

“Yeah, we have to move,” Sekhmet says cheerfully. Isis hesitates, but they have no choice. They go through the fire escape, Isis pushing Horus ahead of her, Anubis securing her back as they walk single-file down the narrow fire escape, Sekhmet running ahead of them, leaping down the steps two at a time. When Horus turns his head to look back, Isis gives his shoulder a sharp squeeze. Glaring at him until he faces ahead again, but not before he sees that the door is gone.

So is Sekhmet, when they reach the bottom of the fire escape and force open the locked door. It opens to a construction site, drizzling wet and deserted except for the sound of running. Seth running straight ahead of them, his bright red hair plastered to his head with rain, his dress shirt soaked through, and he’s clutching the handle of the PASIV in one hand, the other holding a raised gun. His leg is bleeding, tied with a kerchief, and his eyes are wild when he skids to a halt, sees he’s at a dead end.

“Seth!” Isis shouts, but Seth does not react to her presence. His teeth are bared, his red-brown eyes frantic with terror as he fires his gun, but it only clicks, and Horus sees Seth go even paler. A crack, and Seth yells in pain, clutching his hand, his empty gun clattering on the ground.

“I told you there’s no need to run,” Ra purrs. “We can work this out.” Seth shudders on the asphalt. Blood drips from his leg, from his finger where the bullet that had shot the gun out of his hand had grazed him.

Ra’s footsteps are lazy, unhurried. A cat fully aware that she had trapped her prey. Hathor giggles beside her mother, beaming as she lowers her rifle. Sekhmet keeps her gun pointed at him, the sleeve of her left arm covered in blood. Seth glares at them, tracking their movements and flinching when Ra sinks to one knee beside him, lifts his chin up with a manicured finger.

“Don’t worry, little Seth. I’m not interested in throwing you in prison,” Ra purrs. Seth bares his teeth, spits at her. Hathor’s eyes narrow, but Ra only laughs as she wipes his spittle off his cheek.

“So brave, Seth. Almost as if you have nothing left to lose. Except that’s not quite true, isn’t it? Anubis has been making very good headway in his rehabilitation, so I’ve heard.” Seth shudders.

“Leave my son out of this.” Ra taps his cheek, winking at him.

“You mean Osiris’ son. Don’t worry, I’m very happy to update you on his progress.” Ra assures him, still grinning. “In fact, I’m very happy to keep funding his rehabilitation, and his schooling.” The hope in Seth’s eyes is painful to see.

“What do you want?” he croaks. Ra taps his face soothingly.

“I told you I always had faith in your project, it was Isis and Osiris that didn’t want an exclusive contract.” Ra tucks Seth’s hair behind his ear. “Agree to work for me, hand over the patent for ENNEAD’s exclusive use, and you never have to worry about your next paycheck again. Your son will grow up safe and fed, with the most excellent medical care and education.” Ra strokes Seth’s cheek, and impotent rage boils in Horus’ chest when Seth shudders, feebly trying to jerk away but failing.

“I also need you to help me hunt down Isis. I’ve heard she’s on the run with her son, and we don’t want her setting up any rival companies, do we? If you don’t…” Ra digs her fingers into Seth’s chin, and Seth falls still. “Nepthys isn’t exactly in a fit state to take care of herself, let alone raise a child. It would be tragic if something were to happen and poor Anubis were left to fend for himself in the foster system.” Seth’s shoulders slump in defeat. His eyes are wide and so, so young when he nods.

“Fine,” he says hoarsely. “I’ll do anything you want.” Ra smiles in satisfaction, drops his chin. Hathor giggles, and Sekhmet’s lips curl up, though Horus doesn’t think he’s mistaken when he sees the flash of pity in her eyes.

The desperate tremor in Seth’s voice hangs in the air, fades. So does he, along with Ra and Hathor. Only Sekhmet is left, turning to face the three of them with a curved red smile.

Anubis’ face is white. When Sekhmet turns to him, her eyes uncharacteristically soften.

“No one bothered telling you, did they?” she asks. Anubis’ shoulders jerk as he stares at the empty alleyway.

“My mother… She hasn’t spoken to me in a long time. Whenever I tried to ask questions about the past, it only made her worse.” He falls silent. “Eventually it simply ceased to matter. It’s not like there was anyone to remember it, by the time I recovered enough to leave home.” He meets Horus’ gaze for a brief second before turning away, his voice fading into silence.

“I don’t see what difference this makes on our end,” Isis says tersely, glaring at Sekhmet. “So he chose to protect Anubis. That’s fair. Horus and I still suffered for years on end because of him.” Her voice is hard. “Seven years on the run from Ra and her goons, plus the people Seth and Osiris still owed money to, using technology that I created with all the rights stolen from me. Three in what amounts to indentured servitude, and everything else. You think I’ll feel bad for him after that?”

Isis’ voice rises into a shout. Horus reaches up to take her hand, and Sekhmet’s eyes flicker behind her crimson sunglasses as she grins.

“No, not really.” She chuckles. “I don’t think I can make you feel worse than what you saw the night Seth ran.” Horus goes very still, as Isis loses all the color in her face and Anubis jerks his gaze back towards them.

Horus meets Sekhmet’s gaze.

“Let’s find out, shall we?” The world dissolves, sand swallowing up the foundations of the building, pouring into the streets. Horus can see Anubis struggling to keep his head up, Isis screaming as she reaches for him. But the dream continues to collapse and re-form and when Horus’ feet hit solid ground, he’s running.

He had arrived at the hospital from the school – Seth often scolded him for tagging along, but Horus knew that he appreciated his presence, anyway. He’s just not sure how things would go with Nepthys being present.

But when he had arrived, Nepthys was sobbing in Anubis’ hospital room. Anubis himself was watching his mother in bewilderment, and even though Horus tried to get an answer out of his aunt, trying to find out what had happened, where Seth is, she just kept shaking her head.

So Horus followed his instincts. He ran home, practically leaping down the steps of the bus he had caught from the hospital, bolting as fast as he can from the waiting shed to his house. That sick feeling of wrongness grows when he sees that the door is already unlocked and partway open.

There is broken glass on the floor of the hallway leading to the laboratory, and Horus leans down to pick it up, sees it’s a picture of all six of them, the frame smashed up like someone had thrown it to the floor. Horus tucked against Isis’ side, Osiris standing behind her shoulder, Seth with his arms around Anubis and Nepthys both. The date on the photograph says it had been taken only a few months before Horus and Anubis had entered Limbo, and try as he might Horus can’t remember when they even took it, why all of them are smiling so brightly.

Some premonition has him taking the biggest shard from the photo frame. He walks as quietly as possible, his feet leading him to the laboratory. When he opens his door, what he sees there has ice sluicing down his bones.

His father’s office is a mess. Papers strewn everywhere and glass instruments broken, a cot overturned like a massive brawl had happened. Horus’ feet crunch on broken pottery and glass.

Lying on the floor are Seth and Osiris, the both of them hooked up to a PASIV. Even unconscious, Osiris is holding Seth tightly. As Horus watches, the sick feeling in his chest grows heavier and more leaden when he sees that Seth’s throat is ringed with dark bruises, some of them seeping blood. There are fresh tear tracks on his face. As Horus watches, Seth’s breath catches in a sob and another tear slides down his cheek.

If a dreamer dies in a dream, the whole dream collapses.

What if a dreamer dies in real life?

Despite the horror, Horus is calm as he carefully adjusts his grip on the shard he’d picked up. He remains just as calm as he rams it into the side of Osiris’ throat.

Blood wells up from Osiris’ mouth just as his eyes open, bloodshot and dark. There is no time to hesitate, even if Horus wanted to. He slashes the shard all the way around Osiris’ throat just as Seth’s eyes open.

Blood pours out of Osiris. Horus hauls him off as Seth struggles away from him, and his body collapses into a twitching, bloodsoaked heap on the floor, glaring at Horus with the hatred that Horus had always been able to feel from him but could only now identify.

But Horus isn’t paying attention to him, but to Seth. Seth, who’s covered in Osiris’ blood, staring from his corpse to Horus in mute horror, tears drying on his face. With trembling hands, he reaches for Horus’. Only then does Horus notice he’s still gripping the shard, hard enough that the edges have sliced into his fingers.

“Uncle?” Seth’s chest heaves. The shard falls to the floor, shattering into two smaller pieces as Seth’s hands curl around Horus’ shoulders, tugging him close as tears begin flowing down his cheeks.

Footsteps. Horus looks up to find Anubis, his dark eyes burning on the bruises ringing Seth’s neck. Seth’s gaze passes right through him, trembling as he holds Horus’ face between his hands.

Horus is suddenly holding empty air. The world around them shifts, and Horus sees the dream-version of his mother, staring at her phone. Her face is pallid and her hands are trembling. Horus glances up at her face, then sees the blinking green light on the mantel. Of course. The CCTV camera they had installed after he and Anubis had been attacked. He had forgotten it was there.

This means it had been there before. That Isis had seen everything. That she had known all along why Seth had left. What Horus had done.

Horus meets his mother’s gaze in mute shock. At the bitter twist of her mouth as she watches her younger self press her palm against her mouth in agonized horror. He had blanked out in Seth’s arms, no memory between killing Osiris and Seth carrying him upstairs to clean him up. When next he had regained consciousness, he had been clean and tucked into his bed. The police had been downstairs, busy interrogating a distraught Nepthys. He hadn’t heard his mother speak, but that same night Isis had woken him up and told him to pack his bags.

When he asked where Seth was, that had earned him the cold silence that had never properly broken between them. Isis refused to answer when he asked her where he was, where they were going, and they had spent seven years on the run. Both from Ra, and the truth Isis herself hadn’t wanted to acknowledge.

The walls around them crack, and collapse into sand. Anubis strides forwards, and the door leading out to the corridor dissolves into sand just as his hand closes on the doorknob.

Before Horus can say anything, the world trembles. Furniture and walls all collapse into sand, and in a few seconds the only thing left in the collapsing room is the door that in the real world, would have led to the labs.

Anubis and Horus share a look as sand pools around their ankles. He knows where this doorway leads to. He grew up in it.

“If we die here, we’ll enter Limbo,” Anubis warns. There is no hesitation when Horus speaks.

“Seth’s there,” Horus says. “He might never wake if we leave him.” Isis swears as the floor gives beneath them, forcibly recovering herself before turning towards Horus.

“So is the projection!” Isis snaps. “And whatever the hell is causing those vines. Will we wake if we encounter Seth’s demons again?” Sand is sucking in their ankles. The main door is getting buried in sand. They need to make a decision. Now.

“If we go to Limbo, we can find Seth and deal with the projection once and for all.” Anubis says.

“Anubis, you’ve gone as crazy as your dad. We’ll be stuck there for centuries-”

“We won’t be. I know where to find him,” Horus says abruptly. “I grew up there.” Again, he sees that grief flicker on Isis’ face. He forces himself to look her in the eye, to speak before she could shout him down.

“We can’t let Seth destroy himself.” Horus says, his child's voice thin and threadlike through the rising storm. “We’ve let him push us away long enough.” Because this was Seth’s mind, all of it. Seth’s mind desperately trying and failing to bury the secrets that had festered and rotted him from the inside-out.

Yet he himself had led them through the labyrinth he had tried so hard to escape, in the guise of another who could force them to confront the truth they already knew, the truths that Seth and his family had tried their best to stifle and ignore. And Horus knows that if they leave him to the demons of his own mind, if they abandon him after he had led them through…

There would be nothing of Seth left to save in the waking world, even if he opens his eyes.

Isis is quiet. Then she swears as the world gives out beneath them. And then they’re falling, the world falling to pieces around them. Starlight and pure nothingness. A vista of demolished buildings, an empty aching desert.

Horus clings to the memory of Seth. He hits the water, and he knows nothing else.

----------

Seth is looking for something. He’s hunched over, on his knees. Soaked to the bone and freezing, the bitterly-cold waves washing over him every seconds. Sand pours between his fingers. Golden, heavy with saltwater, falling back to the beach with a sickly splat. He’s so cold, the waves washing over him every few seconds. But he has to stay here, he has to keep looking.

Every now and then he hears a building in the city beyond crumbling. Statues of long-dead pharaohs cribbed together from a child’s imagination, fading to dust, returning to the sea.

Seth ignores it all. He has to keep looking. Even if he’s alone. It’s better this way. He can’t hurt anyone else if he’s alone.

“Uncle?” Bright blue eyes. A mop of black hair. Horus’ slight child’s body looks so small in the desert sand. So breakable. Anubis and Isis tower behind him. Seth ignores them all. They’re just projections, anyway.

“Where’s Osiris?” He hears Isis speak. Seth’s fingers claw into the sand, searching.

“He won’t show up. Not when I’m alone.”

Silence. The grains of sand fall through Seth’s fingers, already cramped from exhaustion. Millions and millions of them and he could weep. How would he ever find the corruption that Osiris had planted in his own mind?

“Uncle,” Horus murmurs. His small hands are warm around his. Seth blinks, taking in one shuddering breath after another. “What are you looking for?” He hasn’t finished speaking before Seth started to shake his head.

“No projection can help me. I’m the only one who can find it.” He pulls his hands away from the projection’s, disgusted at himself for how his skin cries out for Horus’ gentle touch. And then Isis’ hand slides beneath his chin, forcibly turning his face up towards hers.

“We’re not projections.” She says firmly, her blue eyes blazing. “We’re here to take you home.” Seth stares at her, mutely. Horus speaks.

“Let us help you, Uncle.” Horus says, and Seth laughs, hollow.

“If you bring me back upstairs, the only thing you’ll achieve is my blowing my brains out because I can’t tell what’s real and what’s not.” The back of his neck is prickling. He can feel Anubis’ gaze on him, and even if it’s only a projection wearing the face of his son, Seth feels shame pricking his skin. No version of his son was ever supposed to see him this weak.

“Exactly why we won’t just drag you up, though believe me the temptation to slap you awake is overwhelming,” Isis growls. And then Anubis speaks.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Anubis asks, and Seth’s face snaps up towards his son. Horus’ small hands cling to his shoulders as he steps fully into his arms.

“Uncle,” Horus whispers, and he’s speaking with his adult’s voice now, that he had only ever heard in reality. He buries his round, soft face against Seth’s neck, and Seth nearly flinches at the warm weight of him, remembering the living reality of his adult self. “Tell us what you’re looking for. We can help. Please let us help.”

Seth swallows, clutching Horus to him. Watching Anubis and the complicated emotion twisting that impassive face. Isis is beside him, propped up on one knee. Glaring at him, her eyes still full of blame but there’s guilt there, too. Shame.

Maybe, Seth thinks, the blame had never been for him. It had been for herself. Seth stares at the projections. At the members of his family, and decides he has nothing left to lose.

“A seed.” Seth says dully, slumping around Horus’ body. “An idea. Osiris’ idea.” The memory of thorns dig into his skin, and Horus presses himself closer against him.

“Osiris’ idea?” It’s Isis speaking now. He turns his head towards her, slow and sluggish as rain-soaked sand.

“You theorized inception was possible.” Seth tells Isis flatly. “He proved it. On me. Now it’s eating me alive from the inside, making me doubt my reality.” He watches the anger on her face morph into horror, and feels nothing but dull relief. Anubis’ dark eyes track Seth’s movements, narrowed and considering.

“What if it has to be someone else who finds it for him?” He speaks. “Maybe that’s the point of the seed Osiris planted. His purpose was to ensure that Seth can’t distinguish between dream and reality. It stands to reason he won’t be able to find it by himself, Osiris might have designed it to be disguised in his consciousness, too.” Horus’ breath is hot, fanning on Seth’s neck. Isis’ expression is wrecked, and in spite of the bitterness and spite between them, Seth’s broken heart aches in sympathy.

It was never easy to watch the person you loved and respected the most fall off their pedestal with the weight of their faults, no matter how many times it happens, no matter how many times they disappoint you. Isis lets out a breath.

“You have a point, I’m afraid,” she says, pushing her bangs out of her face. “Osiris was always good at designing dream levels. I wouldn’t be surprised if he made the seed a part of this specific level, too, make it even more difficult to find.” Isis gestures around the vast expanse of sand surrounding them. Seth feels the light tickle of Horus’ hair as he shakes his head.

“It’s mine, too.” Horus says. Isis startles at the truth of that, and so does Seth. Everything that made Seth, Seth in this realm was also Horus’ too.

“Then if you can identify the components that make up your consciousness, separate from Seth’s-” Anubis says, some of his old boyish excitement coloring his voice, and Seth’s chest aches to hear it.

“Then I can find what Osiris planted.” Horus says. His eyes shine with determination as he lifts his head up and cups Seth’s face between his hands.

“Uncle, I’m sorry.” Horus whispers. “I’m gonna have to grow up now, so I can help you.” Seth wants to protest. He wants to clutch Horus to him, beg him to be his little boy forever in this strange, ever-changing world.

But Seth knows that he can’t stay his child forever. That he has to let Horus finally grow up.

“Okay,” Seth whispers. The desert trembles. Anubis catches Isis as the sands tilt sideways, threatening to bury them. Horus steadies Seth by the arms as he leans in close enough for his lips to brush against Horus’ ear.

“I love you,” Seth whispers as he releases Horus from the death grip of his embrace. As he lets him go.

-------

Afterwards, the memories burn in Horus’ mind like an over-exposed polaroid.

He remembers the world tilting, groaning. Sand everywhere, and thorny vines erupting from them. Seth struggling as they try to wrap around his limbs but the wind picks up, harsh enough to tear at the vines as Horus gathers Seth’s crumpled form to him.

He remembers shadows elongating over the desert expanse. Horus looks up and sees Anubis, manipulating the shadows around him and Isis and building a moat around Seth and Horus. Isis takes her younger brother into her arms with a care that Horus hadn’t seen in years, just as Horus’ winds turn to gales. Re-directing his winds to scatter the sand grains. Identifying each and every granule of Seth’s presence, searching for what didn’t belong.

The vines struggle towards Seth, but the winds hammer at them and the shadows swallow them before they can get closer. Horus dives down towards the sand, searching for what he knows should not be there, what has festered inside Seth for far too long -

And then, a black seed. Sweetly cloying, smelling of the same rot as Osiris’ red flowers.

A familiar face rises up, larger than the sand dunes surrounding them. The skin a rotted, mottled green, the eyes nothing but black pits of want. As Horus’ hand closes over the seed, Osiris reaches for them, death in his eyes.

A sharp crack, loud enough to split the world, and another, then another, at the same time Horus crushes the seed, that germ of cancerous life between his palms. He looks up to find Isis, smoking gun in hand, staring at the gaping ruins of her husband’s head with burning eyes.

At her feet, Seth is curled up small, shadows surround him, protecting him. As the world starts to crumble around them, Horus reaches for him, the winds whipping around him harsh enough to tear at his skin, to tear at his mind.

The last thing he sees before he wakes up is the glitter of tears in Seth’s eyes.

---

Seth wakes up.

He promptly rolls off the cot, then throws up. The pain stabbing into his arm tells him he’s wrenched off the PASIV’s IV line. And then, warmth. Strong arms wrapping around him, lifting him up. In his blurry vision, Isis’ face swims into focus before fading again as her long, warm fingers check his pulse.

And then, nothing.

He wakes up to the beat of a heart monitor. He blinks, then hears the sound of shifting limbs. His bleary gaze lands on the figure seated on a chair beside the bed. He freezes for a moment, but no. Osiris had never worn his hair that long, and he had never favored black as a color.

His eyes rove wildly around the hospital room, then alight on the hourglass on his nightstand, reaching for it with trembling fingers and turbing it over. The sand slips through one glass bulb, to another, and Seth feels his shoulders slump. He collapses back onto the bed, and his eyes wander over every surface on the room. Expecting vines to burst through the walls and shatter the tiled floor. But even as the seconds drag on, the walls and floor remain intact. The final grain of sand slips out of the top bulb of the hourglass, and Seth lets out a deep breath he hadn’t known he was holding.

He only manages to drag his gaze away from the hourglass when Anubis shifts beside him, and speaks.

“Drink some water,” Anubis says. He’s holding a paper cup, which he holds against Seth’s lips. Seth obeys, the water soothing his parched throat as he tilts his head and drinks.

He swallows, tongue swiping over his cracked lips. “Where are Horus and Isis?” he asks. Anubis’ mouth thins, ever-so-slightly.

“They left to sort out matters with Ra.” He says at length. Seth’s breath catches with fear.

“If she catches them-”

“I wouldn’t underestimate Isis, if I were you.” Anubis says. “She’s spent years working in ENNEAD. If anyone can bring Ra down, it’s her.” He sees the silver gleam of a gun in Anubis’ hand.

The grief is a dull but familiar thing, in his heart. Anubis shifts in his seat, looking at a loss for words now they’re alone. Seth remembers the shadows he had created in Limbo, and old guilt twists in his chest.

I should have been the one protecting you. But before he can head down the familiar spiral of self-flagellation, Anubis speaks.

“Our prior appointment was interrupted.” Seth stares at him for a blank moment, and then remembers. Dinner. Their first together in years. Of course.

“Would you like to reschedule?” It’s tentative. So childlike that for a moment, Seth sees Anubis at five years old again. Eager and hopeful and begging him for some time off his busy schedule to play. And Seth had always caved in.

He lets out a breath that’s more ragged sob. Floundering for a moment, wondering if it would be better to push Anubis away to keep himself from disappointing them both. His fingers itch for his hourglass, but then he hears a voice in his head that sounded oddly like Isis, telling him off. Telling him it was time to mend the gap, to heal the hurt of absence, the years of silence when Anubis had needed him the most.

“Of course,” Seth rasps. Anubis smiles – the first true smile that Seth had seen on his face in years. And when Seth reaches for his son’s hand with tentative, trembling fingers, there is no hesitation at all when he takes it. As they settle down to wait.

-----

Isis and Horus deal with Ra.

When it’s over, Maat and Isis hold a quiet conversation between themselves while Thoth’s pale fingers skitter over the surface of his Ipad. Sekhmet is lounging against the wall, a satisfied smirk on her face. Horus watches her, close enough that he knows neither of the senior members of ENNEAD will try anything.

“Hathor will remain a threat,” Thoth says at length, nervously glancing up at Isis. “But Sekhmet can help with her. Hopefully.” He cowers when Sekhmet turns towards him, as languid as a lionness.

“Yeah. I can deal with her. Hathor’s always been too much of a Momma’s girl for my liking.” Thoth visibly deflates in relief, and Maat gives Sekhmet a cool look.

“One wonders if you brought Isis and Seth together precisely to bring about the opportunity to bring down Ra.” Sekhmet gives her a loose shrug and a smile.

“I got bored of her breathing down my neck all the time.” She says, just as Isis speaks, bitten-out.

“I took a risky gamble and won. Athanasiou’s accepted the deal. If ENNEAD had allowed Ra to remain at the helm, we would have remained at odds with New Alexandria, which wouldn’t have been remotely productive for any of us.” She turns her back on the couple. “Maat, facilitate turnover. Thoth, I expect this mess to be cleaned up and scrubbed from the media.”

Thoth nods swiftly behind his wife. When Horus and Isis turn away, Maat is already making calls while Thoth trails behind her. Horus turns to follow Isis, when Sekhmet speaks.

“I assume you and your family have finally spoken to each other properly. About damn time, too.” Sekhmet calls out. “What will you do now, I wonder?” Horus is silent and still for a moment, before resolving to ignore her. As the doors close behind him, he hears her raucous laugh.

As Horus follows Isis out of the building, careful to watch out for sniper fire, painfully aware that this is the freest the two of them have breathed in the years they had been working for Ra. He only dares to speak when they’re in the car that Hanekate had provided for them.

“Mother,” Horus says. “Uncle isn’t going to want to stay here, when he hears Ra’s been neutralized.” Isis’ mouth presses into a thin line. “He can’t be left alone, either.”

“And I expect you intend to go with him, and kill for him again if need be.” Isis says harshly. Her bitterness is overwhelming, and Horus breathes in. Refuses to let himself drown in it, and the memory of blood on his hands.

“You know he needs all the help he can get to heal.” Horus says quietly. “From Osiris, as much as everything that came after.” Isis explodes.

“What about me, then?” Isis snarls. “Why do I get to be the one to pick up all the pieces while Seth gets to walk away? While he gets to abandon all his problems and leave me to clean up the mess he made?” Her mouth snaps shut. She lets out a breath, her fingers tight on the steering wheel. Silence falls, strained. Horus breaks it.

“You also abandoned him,” Horus says quietly, and Isis flinches but does not deny it, her knuckles white. “I’m not going to let you blame him for the things that were in no way under his control. Or mine. Neither will I lie and say I regret killing Osiris.” Isis lets out a shuddering breath, but holds Horus’ gaze as he speaks.

“None of our hands are clean, except for Anubis.” All of them had had a part in how things had gone so bad, and left to fester for far too long. But Horus knows they have a choice now. To let the rot progress, or to cauterize what was causing the wound, save what could still be salvaged of their family.

“Mother, you’ve made your decisions. So has Anubis. So has Seth. Even Osiris made his grave and is now lying in it.” he says, quiet but firm. “I am making my own, just as the rest of you have done.” For a moment, he thinks Isis is going to explode. But then her shoulders slump.

“Don’t expect me to give you two my blessing,” she says, more resigned than anything else. “I don’t think it’s fair for either of you to expect that from me.” She stops the car, and Horus sees they’ve arrived at the private hospital they’d secreted Seth away in.

“Mother…” Horus says. “You know that you have to speak with him eventually. You’re still siblings, and Osiris has gotten between you enough.” Isis solidly stares ahead of her.

“Just go, Horus. You’ve made your decision.” And Horus has, so he opens the door and closes it behind him. Lingering as he watches Isis pull out of the driveway, and away.

Seth is asleep when Horus arrives in his hospital suite. Anubis is by his side, gun out. Seth is grasping his son’s hand like a lifeline, and as always Horus feels the low throb of jealousy in his chest. But even that is eclipsed by the relief he feels as he takes a seat by the side of the bed, takes Seth’s other hand and cradles it on his lap.

“I spoke with him, before he fell back asleep,” Anubis says, staring at Seth’s face. “We agreed to reschedule our dinner appointment.”

“That’s good,” Horus says. The silence stretches on, and Anubis heaves out a sigh.

“I do not know Seth. Either as a man, or a father.” Anubis begins, and Horus feels a pang. Remembering how it had felt to come out of Limbo with no memory left of his parents. “I do not think it is the best to recover what relationship we might still have on those terms.”

“It’s always hard when they remember you as something that’s no longer you. Not anymore.” Horus says. Anubis makes a small sound of assent.

“But I think I’d like to recover what we can, all the same.” Anubis says. “Even if it might be changed.”

“Anubis, you’ll always be Seth’s son. No matter what you do, or even if you try to deny it.” Horus says. It hurts to admit it, but perhaps it is a truth that Anubis needs to hear most of all.

Anubis lifts his dark gaze towards his. “And you’ll always be his.” Horus does not try to deny it, as Seth’s hand twitches in his grip and his red-brown eyes slip open. Pain, guilt, and relief a rictus on his face as Horus presses a swift kiss against his wrist and smiles when Seth does not reach for his hourglass.

When Isis arrives later, Seth is already awake, hourglass in hand. The siblings stare at each other, Seth vibrating with tension, Isis with her eyes suspiciously red and holding bags of Chinese takeout. And they don’t speak, not yet. But Isis shoves a box of noodles at her brother and brusquely tells him to eat, and Seth’s fingers twitch in Horus’ grasp but he accepts the food with an almost- meekness that has Horus exhaling when he sets the hourglass down on the night-table, reaches for the chopsticks that Horus quietly hands him after breaking them apart.

When Horus catches sight of Anubis’ gaze, he sees his own relief mirrored back. Even now, Horus is unsure how long this truce will hold, and Osiris’ shadow will always linger over them, as much as they try to banish the memory of him in Limbo where it belongs.

But for the first time in a very long time, they’re sharing a meal together as the family they used to be. As Anubis passes a box of dumplings towards Horus, he decides it’s a start.

---------------------------

They’re on their way to Buenos Aires.

In the airport, Seth is leaning against Horus’ shoulder. New identity cards have been issued them, along with the requisite papers, but Seth cannot relax and Horus remains alert to his surroundings. Scanning the crowds for any threats, unable to stop his gaze from lingering on those dressed in green for a little too long.

The hourglass remains in Seth’s pocket, with Seth’s fingers periodically creeping towards it before he jerks them away. Horus rubs his wrist with his thumb, a long slow circle of gentleness, and Seth feels warmth bubble up in his chest alongside the ever-present guilt.

His thoughts tilt towards his last conversation with Isis, now seated behind Ra’s former desk in her former office.

“Don't expect me to congratulate the two of you.” Isis had snapped at him. “Gods’ sakes, Seth. Not only are you blood-related, but you practically raised him. I’m never going to be happy that Limbo screwed the two of you up so much that the only people you can relate to is each other.”

“You’re still letting him go with me, though.” Seth says. Perhaps before, he might have gloated. Now, it’s as brittle as the peace they’re still trying to build between them, and they have to be satisfied it’s enough.

“You need looking after.” Isis says. Terse, grudging. “It might as well be him. It’s not like there’s anyone else I can trust. Unless you want me to have Thoth trail you?”

Seth snorts in derision, and silence falls again. Still strained. Still bitter. But after a while, Seth speaks.

“Visit us sometime.” Seth says, his voice cracking. “And if we hear you’re close by… I’ll have Horus stop hovering around me so he can see you.” Isis glares at him, then sighs. Standing up and heading over to his side of the desk to wrap him in a hug.

“If you give Horus any grief, I’m gutting you alive.” Seth’s face cracks open in a smile.

“I’ll hand you the knife myself.” Isis glares at him. But a tension that had been around the corners of her eyes had eased, somewhat. So had the tired slump of her shoulders even as Seth turned away.

“Uncle?” Horus says. Seth pulls himself back to the present. “We’re boarding.” Seth nods, then reaches for his luggage. Horus keeps his hand around the handle of the PASIV, and Seth carefully looks away from it, the weight of the hourglass heavy in his pocket.

They head to Business First Class, and Seth stares out the window as Horus stows away their luggage. His eyes smart at the sunlight on hot tarmac and the blazing blue sky, but he can’t bring himself to close them. The next time this plane lands, they’ll be in the place where they’ll call home in the foreseeable future. Anubis will be waiting for them with the keys to their new home and the papers helping them settle into their new identities. Perhaps Anubis will stay in town for a few more days, right up until he needs to work another job for Isis. Maybe they’ll have dinner together more than once, mending whatever bridges still needed rebuilding between them.

How can you be so certain this is real? Seth breathes in, out. He draws out his hourglass, turns it over. No vines appear., and Horus’ kiss on his cheek banishes the shadow of Osiris clinging to his mind.

Impulsively, Seth turns his head, catching his mouth in a full kiss that Horus melts into. They’re forced to pull apart once the stewardess announces the start of the flight safety tutorial.

“Get some rest,” Horus says, watching him with unbearable fondness. “I’ll be here when you wake.” Seth smiles.

The last grain of sand in the hourglass runs out. Seth does not see it, slipping the hourglass back into his pocket as he steals another kiss. As Horus’ eyes shine at him, the color of the sky.